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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29834436">bane of my existence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyanneg/pseuds/hollyanneg'>hollyanneg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adam is the RA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art School, Dorms, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Kinda, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:33:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29834436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyanneg/pseuds/hollyanneg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan isn't too fond of his uptight RA. For the prompt “apparently everyone has a bet going that we get together."</p><p>~Note: this fic's main plot is finished as of chapter 6. I'm just adding extra scenes for fun!~</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>387</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmoons/gifts">sunsetmoons</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was SO close to keeping this under 2k words lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronan was only biding time at college because his brother had mandated <em>at least one year, Jesus and Mary, Ronan, it’s not that hard.</em></p><p>He was only living on campus because Gansey was, and who was he going to live with if not Gansey?</p><p>Their Resident Assistant had a real stick up his ass about dorm rules. Ronan had managed to convey his disdain for the rules, the guy, and the concept of dorms at their first mandatory floor meeting of the year. He hadn’t actually intended to cause trouble that night, though he resented having to go. He’d shown up late with an ice cream cone, and well, it was August in DC. Soon the ice cream was dripping down both of his arms and onto the floor. He couldn’t lick it fast enough to solve the problem. The RA had paused in the middle of explaining roommate contracts to give Ronan the evil eye. “Ronan, right?” the RA had said.</p><p>“Right,” Gansey answered for him. He was nervous—he didn’t want to cause a ruckus in week one (those were his exact words later that night).</p><p>Ronan and the RA had a short staring contest until the RA said, “Might want to go grab some paper towels.” And went back to his lecture.</p><p>Gansey elbowed Ronan <em>hard,</em> so Ronan got up and took the rest of his cone down the hall with him to the communal bathroom, dripping melted chocolate ice cream all the way. He was pleased—this was an excellent excuse to skip the rest of the meeting.</p><p>The RA found him in the bathroom afterwards. He gave Ronan the same cold stare from earlier; Ronan had been biding his time by shredding paper towels into one of the sinks. “When I said ‘go get some paper towels,’ I meant, ‘bring them back and clean up your mess.’”</p><p>“You didn’t say that, though,” said Ronan insolently. He loathed being told what to do by someone his own age—this guy was Declan all over again.</p><p>The RA leaned against the bathroom wall coolly and looked Ronan over. “How about this, then? You clean up the mess in the common area and in the hall and in the sink—” eyeing the shredded paper mound—“or I report you to the dorm director.”</p><p>Ronan thought about saying <em>do your worst</em>, but he did at least have a little compassion for poor Gansey’s nerves. He wouldn’t put Gansey through that the very first week. Later in the semester, anything would be fair game, if the RA kept being this snotty.</p><p>Ronan hopped down off the counter, saluted the RA, and said, “Yes, sir.”</p><p>The RA rolled his eyes and disappeared.</p><p> </p><p>This was the first of their many altercations.</p><p>Ronan might’ve possibly blown up the communal microwave the third week of school by putting a metal bowl in it. He didn’t appreciate that the RA immediately blamed him because he happened to be the only person in the kitchen area at the time. “People go off and leave things in the microwave all the damn time,” he pointed out to the RA. “It could be anybody’s.”</p><p>The RA had fixed him with his unfortunately very pretty blue eyes and said, “It isn’t though.”</p><p>Ronan replaced the microwave because Gansey made him, but he never admitted to being the culprit. He had learned a lesson about metal bowls though.</p><p> </p><p>Sometime in September, on an otherwise quiet Sunday afternoon, the RA came and pounded on their door. “Open up!” he yelled.</p><p>Ronan had no intention of opening up, and Gansey wasn’t there to make him.</p><p>But then the RA yelled, “Ronan, I know you’re in there,” and out in the hallway, someone else snickered.</p><p>Ronan came over and swung the door open to throw his best threatening glance at the frat boys who’d stopped to watch the scene. “What?” he said to the RA.</p><p>“Do you have a bird in here, or does it amuse you to screech like some kind of raptor?” the RA demanded.</p><p>Ronan snorted, and the frat guys laughed again, more at the RA than at him. It <em>was </em>a bit funny.</p><p>“I’m a screecher,” Ronan confirmed.</p><p>The RA pushed past him and came into the room.</p><p>“You’re invading my private space!” Ronan said, and the RA ignored him.</p><p>“Oh god, you do have a bird.” The RA sighed—not quite the reaction Ronan had expected.</p><p>“She comes to visit sometimes,” Ronan said. It was true. The raven—he’d named her Chainsaw—had been coming to his window ever since he’d fed her a couple of times on the quad. Now he fed her in his room, and she brought him trinkets. He was amassing quite a collection of dimes and marbles and tin foil and the like.</p><p>“Not a fish or a hamster or even a cat or dog,” said the RA. “A crow.”</p><p>“She’s a raven,” Ronan corrected.</p><p>The RA whirled around and gaped at him, raising one fair eyebrow. He ran a lean, suntanned hand through his hair. Ronan tried not to stare. “Ronan,” he said. “Bane of my existence. I’m not kidding about reporting you. If I ever hear or see this bird in here again or see any evidence of her, that’s it.”</p><p>Ronan thought he was probably bluffing.</p><p> </p><p>Things kept going like this. The RA caught Ronan blocking the door open so he could carry stuff in from his car more easily. This was apparently <em>against the rules</em> and <em>very dangerous, anybody off the street could come in!</em></p><p>The RA came out into the hallway to interrupt Ronan’s phone argument with Declan about missing mass.</p><p>“Do you have any idea what time it is?” the RA demanded. He was always very demanding.</p><p>Ronan didn’t. It was 3 a.m., the RA informed him. Sunday again. People have class tomorrow. Well, so did Ronan, technically. Whether or not he attended was another thing. No one here <em>had</em> to go to class.</p><p>The RA came closer. “Have you been drinking?”</p><p>The empty whiskey bottle might or might not currently in the common room’s trashcan.</p><p>“I have not, officer,” Ronan said, only slurring a little. He went to his room, and that was the end of it.</p><p>It didn’t help that these things always happened with witnesses. The other guys on the floor loved to come out in the hall and watch these little showdowns. The RA always ignored them. Ronan couldn’t, quite. He didn’t care about their opinions, but he didn’t want to be free entertainment for them.</p><p>It also didn’t help that Gansey had befriended Mr. Uptight Asshole RA. They had a history class together. Ronan came back to the dorm more than once to find them studying together—usually in the common area, but sometimes in Ronan and Gansey’s room. On these occasions, Ronan gave them a wide berth but stayed in the room—he was not going to be chased out by an interloper.</p><p>One day, they were studying Roman emperors, and Ronan was sitting on his bunk bed tossing peanuts up and catching them in his mouth. He missed a few that ended up on the floor near the RA’s butt. They exchanged a look—Ronan challenging the guy to say something, which he didn’t.</p><p>Meanwhile, Gansey was saying, “I can’t imagine that Nero really fiddled while Rome burned.” Flipping through his textbook, he exclaimed, “Oh, this is fascinating! Apparently there was some legend that Nero was going to come back from the dead and rule Rome again. His supporters kept the stories going for 40 years after his death.”</p><p>“Maybe they wanted an encore performance,” said the RA.</p><p>Ronan laughed; he couldn’t help it. The RA looked up, surprised. Ronan was surprised too. Who knew The Asshole had a sense of humor?</p><p>When the RA left that day, Gansey said, “I really wish you’d stop antagonizing him. You two would like each other if you could get along. He’s an incredibly engaging person.”</p><p>“Incredibly engaging,” Ronan murmured. “He’s a narc, Gansey.”</p><p>“It’s his job to be,” Gansey pointed out. “He gets free lodging for keeping us in line.”</p><p>“Not my problem."</p><p>Gansey sighed. “Could you please just try a <em>little</em> harder? For me.”</p><p>Ronan rolled his eyes. “Only for you.” He started tossing peanuts again. “What’s his name again? Alan?” Ronan knew perfectly well. “Ashton? Ethel?”</p><p>“Adam Parrish, and if you ever call him Ethel to his face, I’ll tape a picture of you in your tennis whites to the bathroom door.”</p><p>Ronan gave Gansey an insouciant smile. “You would never.”</p><p>“Don’t try me.”</p><p> </p><p>At their midterm floor meeting, Parrish was going over the rules for extended quiet hours during the exam period. He looked directly at Ronan when he said, “Inappropriate activities during quiet hours include phone conversations in public areas.”</p><p>“But Lynch needs to call his girlfriend!” yelled some asshole on the far side of the group, Ronan couldn’t tell who.</p><p>Parrish shot Ronan a wry glance like he knew that wasn’t ever going to be a problem. Maybe he’d noticed a few of Ronan’s lingering glances. Damn.</p><p> </p><p>Not a week later, Parrish turned up at a party to celebrate the end of midterms. It was off campus at some guy’s house, someone Ronan knew from art classes. Gansey was off in a corner monologuing to someone else from their dorm about Welsh kings. Ronan was standing nearby, nursing a beer. He and Parrish locked eyes, and unfortunately, the RA seemed to think that was an invitation to come over. Ronan tried to look like he didn’t care. Once Parrish was in earshot, Ronan said, “Didn’t expect to see you here. I kind of thought you were a bot who only ever studies or bothers people about dorm rules.”</p><p>Parrish leaned against the wall next to Ronan, smiled sarcastically, and said, “Not your best line, Lynch.”</p><p>They stood there long enough that the silence began to feel awkward. Ronan couldn’t believe it, but he was actually contemplating small talk with the bane of <em>his</em> existence just to relieve the tension. “So what’s your fucking major, anyway?”</p><p>Parrish snorted in the middle of taking a drink. He was laughing.</p><p>“Well, I know you’re not as much of a history nerd as Gansey,” Ronan pointed out.</p><p>“No. I’m in engineering. Just taking that class as an elective,” said Parrish.</p><p>“You voluntarily chose to take History of Old White Guys?” Ronan asked.</p><p>Parrish laughed again. He had a nice laugh, quiet but cheerful. “What can I say? I’m a masochist.”</p><p>“You must be to major in engineering.”</p><p>Gansey had apparently paused in his monologue, and the guy from the dorm—he lived across the hall from them—turned around and looked at Ronan and Parrish. “Why don’t you two just kiss already?” he said, grinning. “The sexual tension is bonkers.” He looked down into his SOLO cup. “I need a refill.” And he was gone.</p><p>Ronan wasn’t sure whether to just sink into the floor and die or to chase after the guy and punch him in his stupid, smug face. He shot Gansey a panicked look. Gansey just looked confused.</p><p>Ronan couldn’t look at Parrish, but he wasn’t saying anything, just leaning against the wall, drinking his Coke.</p><p>After a few long, excruciating seconds, Gansey said, “I’m sure he didn’t mean—”</p><p>“It’s all right, Gans,” said Parrish. He sounded distinctly amused. “Apparently everyone has a bet going that we get together.”</p><p><em>That</em> made Ronan look at him. He was dumbstruck. Parrish was smiling.</p><p>Gansey sputtered a bit. “You and—you and Ronan?”</p><p>Parrish took another drink and said, unbothered, “The guy in 113 confessed it to me the other day. I was busting him for pot, but somehow he thought it was about that instead. Apparently he’s got $500 riding on you and me, Lynch. He said they think our fights are ‘like something from a sitcom.’”</p><p>Ronan suddenly understood the true meaning of mortified. He wanted to disappear forever. When the silence stretched long, and he felt Parrish staring at him, he finally met his eye again. Parrish offered him a sympathetic smile. “I can’t date my residents, anyway.” Another sip. “But you know what? You’d be doing me a huge favor if you moved to another floor.”</p><p>Ronan finally found his voice. It came out sarcastic and a bit more hurt than he would’ve liked. “I’m sure you’d love to get rid of me.”</p><p>“I’d love to be done with your shenanigans,” Parrish conceded, “and then I could ask you out.”</p><p>“You could—you could—” Ronan was speechless again.</p><p>Parrish finished his Coke. “Think about it,” he said. “Only six weeks left in the semester.” He pushed off the wall, smiled at Ronan, and bumped his arm. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you wanna keep talking.”</p><p>He disappeared. Ronan was left gaping at Gansey. Gansey looked equally shocked but was pulling himself together. “Go after him!” he said, grinning.</p><p>Ronan did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Coffee &amp; flirting &amp; awkward Ronan</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>By popular request, y'all are getting more RAverse. I hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Requests for dorm transfers didn’t always get approved—normally you had to have a really good reason, like <em>my roommate is trying to kill me in my sleep</em> or whatever. Not like, <em>I really wanna date my hot RA who apparently thinks I’m hot too.</em></p>
<p>It was a lot easier to make it happen if you had somewhere else to go.</p>
<p>Gansey had made friends with someone named Henry who lived two floors above them. They had poli sci together. Henry said he’d be willing to switch rooms with Ronan. “Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” Henry had said, clutching his chest, after hearing the whole story.</p>
<p>Ronan blushed. He wanted to shoot back, <em>it’s not true fucking love</em>. But a) Henry was doing him a big favor and b) maybe it actually would be. Who knew? Too early to say.</p>
<p>He had barely seen Adam since the party, which was a massive bummer. He’d learned that Adam was taking something like 18 hours’ worth of classes and also worked in one of the campus libraries 10 hours a week—all that on top of his RA duties. “Oh, so you actually are a masochist,” Ronan had said.</p>
<p>Adam had given him a wry smile—Ronan had seen these a few times before and was particularly fond of them. The underlying sarcasm. The unspoken understanding. The mild self-deprecation. “You do what you gotta do to get by,” Adam had said, not offering more information.</p>
<p>That night, Ronan had followed him to the kitchen as instructed. They’d gotten drink refills—Adam had said, “We’re not in the dorm, so I’ll pretend I don’t know you’re too young to be drinking that”—and they’d gone outside to stand on the back deck of the house, where there were fewer people and less noise. It was October, and the night was cool. Adam had shivered in his t-shirt, and Ronan had thought about offering up his jacket, then had said to himself, <em>nope, it’s way too soon for that. You’re not even dating him.</em> Then he’d done it anyway, and was rewarded with a smile that was half-wry and half-shy. Adam had turned down the jacket, though.</p>
<p>Adam had talked about his crazy, packed schedule, and Ronan had admitted that he wasn’t sure if he planned to stay in school after this year. He liked his major (studio art) a lot more than he’d expected, but his general education classes were sucking his soul out. “Sucking out your soul, huh?” Adam had said with a smirk. “Hmm, might be a dealbreaker, Lynch. I need someone with a soul.”</p>
<p>Ronan’s brain got stuck on the word<em> need</em> and refused to provide him with anything to say.</p>
<p>Adam didn’t notice, kept talking. “You could show me some of your art sometime.”</p>
<p>Ronan’s brain kept tripping over itself. <em>My art???? </em>Okay. Well. He wasn’t going to show Adam the pictures of hands he’d sketched after the day Adam discovered Chainsaw. He hadn’t been able to get <em>hands</em> out of his head until he’d drawn them over and over. But there were plenty of other things he could show. “Yeah, anytime,” he said, and was honestly amazed at how smooth he sounded.</p>
<p>So. So.</p>
<p>Ronan met Henry’s roommate, Noah, and they bonded over skateboarding, and Ronan decided he could stand to live with this guy, especially with Gansey only two floors away.</p>
<p>They applied for the transfer and waited. A few days after they’d made the application, Ronan found a note taped to his door. It was folded up and said <em><span class="u">LYNCH</span></em> on the outside. It was brief. <em>Want to get coffee Sunday, 2 p.m.? Text me and let me know</em>. There was a phone number and a signature. <em>Adam.</em></p>
<p>Ronan texted right away. Was that embarrassing? Did it seem desperate? He didn’t really care.</p>
<p>
  <em>hey this is lynch yeah let’s get coffee</em>
</p>
<p>Adam texted back three hours later: a thumbs-up and an address.</p>
<p>Ronan met him on Sunday. He didn’t dress up—what was the point? Parrish had literally seen him in his pajamas.</p>
<p>Adam beat him there—he already had a drink and a table when Ronan arrived, which thwarted his plan to buy Adam’s coffee. Maybe that was just as well, because only a few minutes later, Adam told him, “This isn’t a date. I still can’t.”</p>
<p>The first thing Adam said, though, when Ronan sat down was, “I got your transfer request.”</p>
<p>“Those go to you?” Ronan was surprised. He took a sip of his coffee—it scalded his tongue and he managed not to curse.</p>
<p>Adam watched all that with amusement. “No, they go to the dorm director and the overall housing director, but then they notified me because you’re my resident.”</p>
<p>“Well?” Ronan asked. “Am I gonna get it?”</p>
<p>Adam smiled. “I don’t know yet.”</p>
<p>“Why’d you wanna have coffee, then?”</p>
<p>That’s when he got the <em>this isn’t a date </em>line, and he felt supremely stupid. He tried to think what to say. “I just meant. Like. Why today?”</p>
<p>That wasn’t actually exactly what he meant. What <em>did </em>he mean? Why was he <em>so</em> awkward?</p>
<p>Adam sipped his own drink. “I haven’t seen you around lately. I should probably be grateful you aren’t causing me any more problems.” He said this lightly—it was a joke. “Thought we could get to know each other a bit more. So tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”</p>
<p>What <em>did </em>Parrish know about him?</p>
<p>Ronan scratched at a chip on the table. This was like when teachers asked you to share something interesting on the first day. His mind went blank. At least this time, he didn’t resent the question. What could he say? I’m an orphan? I have horrible nightmares? Gansey’s afraid to let me out of his sight?</p>
<p>“I grew up on a farm,” he said finally. “I’m fucking great with animals.”</p>
<p>That earned him another smile. God, those smiles were beautiful.</p>
<p>“What kind of animals?”</p>
<p>“Cows mainly. I don’t know. We had some horses. Some pigs. Some fowl.”</p>
<p>“Fowl,” Adam snorted.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you know. Chickens. Geese.”</p>
<p>“You had geese? I’ve heard they’re mean.”</p>
<p>“Evil motherfuckers,” Ronan agreed. “They’ll peck you to death. Not as bad as swans though.”</p>
<p>Adam looked like he couldn’t <em>stop</em> smiling. “You had swans, too?”</p>
<p>“God, no.” Ronan grimaced. “What are they good for? Just looking pretty.”</p>
<p>Adam leaned in a bit closer. “What are <em>you </em>good for, Ronan? Besides looking pretty.”</p>
<p>Ronan spit out some of his coffee. Grabbed a few napkins. Cleaned up the table and his shirt. Felt himself blushing with embarrassment.</p>
<p>Adam was laughing at him. “Sorry. That was a terrible line.”</p>
<p>Ronan finally recovered. “Nah, I’m fine with you calling me pretty.” He leaned back in his chair and thought about how to ask the question he really wanted to ask. “Why me? Why do you want to date me, when I’ve made your life miserable for two months?”</p>
<p>“You’d have to try a lot harder to actually make my life miserable, Ronan,” Adam said, no longer smiling, but not angry, either. “It’s a little bit cute that you befriended the campus raven—”</p>
<p>How did he know that? He’d never asked what Chainsaw was doing in Ronan’s room.</p>
<p>“I can only assume blowing up the microwave was an accident. Gansey told me your late-night phone conversations related to some family trouble you’re having, and I get that. You know what I thought when we first met?”</p>
<p>He meant move-in day. Adam had come around to each of the rooms on their floor with a cheery, pasted-on smile, to introduce himself and say <em>just let me know if you need anything. </em>Ronan remembered thinking,<em> huh, the RA is pretty, </em>and also,<em> he seems incredibly boring. </em>“What?”</p>
<p>Adam ticked off his thoughts on his fingers. “How do two such good-looking people live in the same room? How does Boat Shoes live with Punky? How on earth is Punky so hot?”</p>
<p>“Punky,” Ronan murmured, amused. “So you just want me for my pretty face, Parrish?”</p>
<p>Adam took another sip, perfectly cool. “You promised to show me your art. Then I’ll know what goes on under the buzzcut.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ronan’s room transfer was approved, but he wasn’t going to be allowed to move until the end of the semester. Six more weeks. Six weeks was, unfortunately, plenty of time for things to go wrong.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adam nodded and walked around the room some more, looking at other students’ paintings then coming back to Ronan’s. “What are you going to paint next?”</p>
<p>“You,” Ronan said. It spilled out too fast. He wished he could take it back. “If you want,” he added.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please enjoy this extremely fluffy chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things Ronan did not object to: spending every day with Adam. Bringing him coffee when he worked late at the library or studied into the wee hours (so, all the time). Poking him repeatedly in the middle of said studying until he got Adam’s attention. Adam would huff, pretending to be annoyed, secretly glad for the break.</p>
<p>Things he did object to: not kissing Adam.</p>
<p>Because they <em>weren’t </em>dating.</p>
<p>Ronan was freshly 19 and had never dated anyone before. No one at his and Gansey’s snotty prep school had been worth the time. Except, well, maybe Gansey. But that ship had sailed.</p>
<p>Still, he thought he understood what dating entailed. Spending lots of time together, talking, buying things for each other, helping each other out whenever things went wrong. Like friendship, but with kissing and holding hands and more hugging and cuddling and maybe, eventually, sex.</p>
<p>So every time he convinced himself that he was almost dating Adam Parrish, he reminded himself that they had never touched each other at all, even briefly.</p>
<p>It was hard not to think about it when they were together. Adam studied machines and Ronan studied Adam, the sharp yet delicate lines of his face, the way the shadows played off all his angles and made him look different than before. The way the sun turned his skin even more golden and his eyes a paler blue. He was always mussing his hair, and that drove Ronan a little crazy. He wanted to be able to do that. Adam’s hair was long and shaggy now, not trimmed neatly short like at the beginning of the semester. Ronan hoped he wouldn’t cut it again. He hoped at some point he’d get to hold one of those slim, solid hands, and maybe even kiss it.</p>
<p>It was Adam’s motivation and intense focus that made him attractive, Ronan thought to himself during these study sessions. That and the sly, sarcastic comments. That and the impression he had—though Adam rarely talked much about himself—that he’d survived something and become stronger for it. A bit like Ronan himself.</p>
<p>Why Adam found him attractive—other than maybe physical appearance—was still a mystery to him.</p>
<p>That’s what he was thinking about one day, lying on Adam’s floor, exhausted from all his confusion. He was staring at the stain on the ceiling and the sliver of blue sky he could see at the top of Adam’s window. He was half asleep when, after 30 minutes of silence, Adam said, “I’m hungry. Dinner?”</p>
<p>Dinner meant the nearest university cafeteria. Adam Parrish Studies (Ronan’s real major at this point, if he was honest) had also yielded the information that Adam was frugal to a fault, so they never went out to eat. They just maxed out their meal plans instead.</p>
<p>In the cafeteria, Ronan went straight to the make-your-own-sandwich station, which was always a sure bet if the hot food looked suspect. He nabbed a table and waited for Adam, who came over with two full trays, like he’d hit every station in the damn place. He was balancing a drink and looked about to spill it all, so Ronan grabbed a tray from him. “Think you got enough?” he asked.</p>
<p>Adam shrugged and sat down. “I’m always hungry.”</p>
<p>Ronan ate his sandwich and stole a couple of Adam’s fries to be annoying, but not too many, since Adam was always hungry, apparently. He got a text from Matthew—Matty was home for the weekend and sending him pictures of the Barns that made Ronan ache for home. This one was of one of their cows. He showed Adam—she was sticking her tongue out like she’d forgotten to put it away. “This is Backhoe,” Ronan said. His 17-year-old self had thought that name was hysterical.</p>
<p>He was rewarded with a grin. “Do you name all your animals after some type of machinery?” Adam asked.</p>
<p>“Not all. My favorite cow is named Optimus Prime.”</p>
<p>Adam laughed out loud.</p>
<p>“What can I say? I went through a Transformers phase.”</p>
<p>“Please tell me you’re out of that phase,” said Adam through peals of laughter.</p>
<p>“I’ve moved onto better things,” said Ronan loftily. He was almost certain he could leverage this into another joke.</p>
<p>“Right. The power tools phase.” Adam was practically in tears, holding his stomach like it hurt. “God, do you paint them too? Like, Picasso had the ‘Blue Period’ and you’re in your ‘Farm Equipment Period.’”</p>
<p>“That period will last forever,” Ronan said, trying to stay serious. It was hard. Watching Adam lose it was giving him some kind of warm, happy feeling he couldn’t name.</p>
<p>“Please show me Optimus Prime,” Adam said, wiping his eyes. So for a few minutes Ronan showed him every picture he had of his animals, and then some pictures of the Barns and his house. “That must’ve been such a nice place to grow up,” Adam said. He’d sobered up again after his laughing fit.</p>
<p>“Where’d you grow up?” he asked. Adam had only ever said he was from Virginia too; he was intensely private, but hopefully this was a safe enough question.</p>
<p>“A place made for leaving,” said Adam cryptically. He looked up into Ronan’s eyes so deeply it felt like something from a movie. “And you grew up in a place you never wanted to leave, huh?”</p>
<p>All right, so Adam was also a mind-reader. Ronan flushed. <em>Why why why are you with me?</em> he thought. “My brother’s making me do school. You know that—kinda.” Adam had been privy to a short, tense exchange between Ronan and Gansey about unanswered calls from Declan. “The older brother, not the one who’s sending me cow pics.”</p>
<p>“Are you close to them?” Adam asked.</p>
<p>They hadn’t talked about family at all, up until now. Ronan decided to get the worst over with all at once. “With the younger one, yeah. Used to be with the older one, but then our parents died and he became our guardian and everything got fucked-up and weird.”</p>
<p>Adam looked at him carefully again. “I don’t speak to my parents anymore,” he said.</p>
<p><em>Quid pro quo</em>, Ronan thought. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he said.</p>
<p>Out of nowhere, Adam smiled, bright and lovely. “I’m not,” he said, “but thank you.”</p>
<p>After dinner, they walked over to the art building. Ronan had already shown Adam his sketchbooks—except the pages with Adam on them—but not any of his paintings, because they were all housed in one of the basement studios. They passed through a courtyard where the art building and music building connected to each other in a long U-shape. A trumpeter started up in some unseen practice room. “I arranged accompaniment for our excursion,” Adam said, perfectly serious, until they both broke into smiles again.</p>
<p>They went to the basement. Ronan had a few dark-hued paintings of the forests and monsters he dreamed of. He had a lighter painting he’d done of Matthew, almost all in yellow and gold. Adam looked at each one carefully like he was going to be tested on them, and he asked questions. “Is this somewhere you’ve been? No? Just something you conjured up? Your head must be an interesting place.”</p>
<p>“A dangerous one,” Ronan said.</p>
<p>Adam turned around and leaned against one of the drawing tables. “What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve painted?”</p>
<p>Ronan thought for a moment, then, a bit self-consciously, he turned and pulled up his shirt in the back.</p>
<p>He heard Adam come closer. “You designed your own tattoo?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Adam was silent for a moment—studying it too, maybe. Ronan felt the barest brush of fingers and shivered. <em>“Unguibus et rostro,”</em> Adam said finally.</p>
<p>Ronan felt very seen. Again. He let his shirt drop and turned around.</p>
<p>Adam was looking at him with his head cocked, curious. “What does it mean?”</p>
<p>“More dreams,” Ronan said.</p>
<p>Adam nodded and walked around the room some more, looking at other students’ paintings then coming back to Ronan’s. “What are you going to paint next?”</p>
<p>“You,” Ronan said. It spilled out too fast. He wished he could take it back. “If you want,” he added.</p>
<p>Adam gave him the tiniest smirk. Ronan, not a mind-reader, wasn’t sure what it meant. But Adam said, “All right.”</p>
<p>They started two days later, in Ronan and Gansey’s room. Adam was excellent at sitting still, and the late-afternoon light, diffused through the window, made him more beautiful than ever. The color palette for this, Ronan thought, was going to be mostly red. He was less concerned about making things look precisely accurate and more about expressing the way they made him feel. So. Red. Desire, not anger.</p>
<p>He painted for an hour or so. They didn’t talk much during it. He wondered what Adam was thinking about. Finally, Ronan said, “Break. That’s enough for today.”</p>
<p>Adam blinked like he was waking up. “Can I see?” he asked. “Or are you the type of artist who makes everyone wait until it’s done?”</p>
<p>“I don’t give a fuck,” Ronan said honestly, so Adam came over.</p>
<p>He smiled at what he saw. “Very abstract,” he said politely.</p>
<p>Ronan had painted a streaky red background with golden bubbles and the rough outline of a pinkish face. “Yeah, you aren’t very finished,” he said. “I am actually going to give you eyes.”</p>
<p>“Ah, thanks,” Adam said. “Some lips would be nice too.”</p>
<p>“All right, but you can’t have lips <em>and </em>a nose. That’s asking too much.”</p>
<p>Another grin. Ronan was satisfied. He left the painting to dry, and they went to cafeteria again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Up next: ~things go wrong~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adam did not look happy. Ronan let him in but didn’t turn the lights on. He’d rather not see Adam’s face if it looked miserable. Especially tonight...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thanksgiving weekend. Ronan stayed at school. His brothers were in DC, and they did make a turkey together, but it was a pale imitation of what Thanksgivings had been like when they were kids—all the warmth and noise and bustle and coziness of the Barns. Was it the place that had made his childhood so magical, or the people, the ones he didn’t have anymore?</p>
<p>The good thing was that Gansey didn’t have to leave DC either, and Adam was around to, having said something cryptic about prioritizing studying over sweet potatoes.</p>
<p>Adam asked him to go out on Saturday night. He was leaning against Ronan’s doorframe before going back to his own room, after they’d been hanging out on Black Friday. “A bunch of people from my department are going out to this bar-club-type place. Wanna come?”</p>
<p>It still wasn’t a date. Adam was very careful to say, “They said I should bring a friend along if I wanted.”</p>
<p>Ronan said yes. Obviously. He wasn’t going to turn down going anywhere with Adam.</p>
<p>Saturday night, they had dinner together in the cafeteria again—it was becoming routine now; most days they ate at least one meal together. They walked around campus for a while afterwards. “They didn’t want to meet until 9,” Adam said. “This is why I hate going out. That’s an early start for this kind of thing.”</p>
<p>Ronan didn’t mind late nights, not at all, but he nodded sympathetically. “I mean, you need your beauty sleep, Parrish.”</p>
<p>Adam snorted and hopped up onto a low brick wall that edged the path they were on. “I’m taller than you now!” He walked along it, vaguely catlike, until reaching the end. “Oh, this end’s higher. Help me down.” Adam knelt and held out a hand. Ronan took it, and Adam jumped the rest of the way.</p>
<p>Ronan felt like he’d been burned—but a sweet, sharp kind of burn. The kind he wanted more of. He felt almost dizzy from it, and Adam let go of his hand far too soon.</p>
<p>He was pretty sure he was making some stupid, dreamy face—Adam was giving him a funny look—so he said, “Congrats on not falling on your face, Parrish.”</p>
<p>Adam rolled his eyes, and they walked on.</p>
<p>Later that night, Ronan felt silly for having reacted so strongly to holding hands for five seconds. Because at the bar, Adam only talked to the other engineering students for a few minutes before grabbing Ronan’s hand—again!—and pulling him over to a shadowy corner booth.</p>
<p>To distract himself from <em>all of that,</em> Ronan picked up the little card with the cocktail list on it. Adam plucked it out of his hands. “I’m 99% certain you have a fake ID, but I’m absolutely begging you as your RA not to use it tonight. I can only pretend not to notice so many times.”</p>
<p>“As your friend, I have to ask,” said Ronan sarcastically, “why did you bring me to a bar if we’re not gonna drink and you’re already tired of your Nerd Club over there?”</p>
<p>Adam’s half-smile suggested he hadn’t really thought this through. He made a show of looking around, then pointed to the small dancefloor where a few couples were bopping along to old pop hits. “Let’s dance,” he said.</p>
<p>That’s when hand-holding started to feel like nothing at all, because suddenly he was face-to-face with Adam Parrish, barely any space between them, and Adam’s hand was sliding up Ronan’s arm, soft, ghostlike.</p>
<p>Ronan wasn’t any good at dancing—he stood there and swayed awkwardly until Adam laughed, took both of his arms, and pulled him even closer. “Loosen up,” he shouted over the music. “Are you self-conscious?”</p>
<p>Ronan shrugged, but he tried to focus less on his lack of dance skills or the strangeness of this tiny dancefloor, and more on the fact that Adam hadn’t let go of him—he’d wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck instead. Ronan took a chance and put his hands on Adam’s back. He felt the lean muscles shifting there as they danced. Their chests were pressed together now, and Adam wasn’t looking at him, but off to the side with a shy, pleased expression on his face. Whitney Houston was playing, and the whole moment was so strange and surreal and unexpected and intoxicating and heady and—</p>
<p>The song changed to something slower, and Adam eventually did look at him again, and the light in his eyes was more than Ronan could bear. He was either going to have to kiss Adam or let go of him and bolt out of here.</p>
<p>He kissed Adam.</p>
<p>He was only a few seconds into the kiss before he thought, <em>oh wait, I wasn’t supposed to do this yet, we’re only friends</em>—but Adam was kissing him back and pulling him closer still. When Adam ended the kiss, he put his head on Ronan’s shoulder and kept swaying with him. Ronan couldn’t see his face, but he must not’ve minded the kiss too much.</p>
<p>How much time passed there? Hours? Years? It was one of those moments that would last forever, like somewhere, some version of Ronan was always going to be here, holding on tight to Adam Parrish and still tasting his chapstick.</p>
<p>He loved the feeling of Adam’s head on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Ronan had stopped paying any attention to the music, but eventually Adam picked his head up again just to glance up at the speakers and yell, “Oh, I hate this song!” Ronan didn’t know it—Madonna, maybe? But seeing Adam’s smile was too much for him. He went in for another kiss.</p>
<p>Adam responded right away. Ronan could tell—and he wasn’t surprised—that Adam knew what he was doing, much more so than Ronan (who might or might not’ve just had his first kiss... he certainly wasn’t going to say). Adam angled his head carefully, and it was so very <em>Adam</em>, to approach kissing with the same precision and focus he used for school. He guided Ronan’s mouth to where he wanted it to be. He’d moved one hand to rest lightly on Ronan’s cheek. His hand was a little cold but his mouth was so very warm, and Ronan had pretty much decided that he didn’t want to do anything but this until the end of time when—</p>
<p>“Adam?” The voice sounded horrified.</p>
<p>Adam pulled away, which felt truly tragic. Ronan looked at the girl who’d interrupted them and had a brief, panicked thought that maybe she was Adam’s girlfriend. She looked vaguely familiar.</p>
<p>“Isn’t he one of your residents?” she asked, wide-eyed, pointing at Ronan.</p>
<p>Adam said nothing. He looked frozen.</p>
<p>“This is so inappropriate!” said the girl. “I’m going to have to report this.” She turned on her heel and walked away.</p>
<p>Adam called after her. “Wait, no, please don’t—” He ran after her without saying a word to Ronan. Ronan tracked his movements all the way to the door and outside. Adam had just abandoned him at the bar.</p>
<p>He went to retrieve the jackets they’d left in the booth and ran outside himself. Adam and the girl had already disappeared. How had they managed that so quickly? He started walking back towards campus, assuming that’s where they would’ve gone, but he never caught up with them. He paused when he reached the dorm, wondering if he’d made a mistake in walking this far. Maybe Adam would’ve gone back to the bar to look for him.</p>
<p>He texted: <em>hey can’t find you where’d you go. </em>And he waited. Ten or fifteen minutes passed, and he barely noticed. He sat on a bench, shivering in the cold night air, wondering how the night had changed so fast and so dramatically. How had everything gone from perfect to awful?</p>
<p>Adam didn’t reply, so eventually Ronan went inside and back to his room, shooting off one more text before he hid his phone under his pillow. <em>Idk if ur on campus but I’m in my room</em>.</p>
<p>He hadn’t exactly meant it as an invitation, but he wouldn’t mind if Adam took it that way. And sure enough, after a while, there was a knock on the door. It was after midnight by now. Ronan crawled back out of his bed and opened the door. Adam was there, strangely backlit from the fluorescent lights in the hallway, a stark contrast to Ronan’s dark room.</p>
<p>Adam did not look happy. Ronan let him in but didn’t turn the lights on. He’d rather not see Adam’s face if it looked miserable. Especially tonight...</p>
<p>After a long, uncomfortable silence, Adam said, “I couldn’t talk her out of it.”</p>
<p>“Who the fuck even was that?” Ronan asked. He still couldn’t place her.</p>
<p>“Third-floor RA.” Adam sounded exhausted. “She’s gonna report me to the dorm director.”</p>
<p>“What’s gonna happen?” Ronan asked. His voice was hoarse.</p>
<p>Adam sighed. Ronan could just barely see him walk over and drop into Gansey’s desk chair. “I don’t know, exactly. It’s not like they’ll kick me out of school. But they might not let me be an RA anymore. I’ll lose my housing—or I’ll have to pay for it, and I can’t.” Now, he sounded pained, verging on desperate. “Money’s tight anyway. My scholarships don’t cover everything.”</p>
<p>Ronan thought hard about what Adam wanted him to say. “It’s a first-time offense... Right?” He realized he didn’t know for sure.</p>
<p>“Obviously!” Adam snapped.</p>
<p>“So maybe it won’t be that bad.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s<em> bad</em>, Ronan,” Adam sounded angry. Was he angry with Ronan? “You don’t know how much they lectured us during our training about not doing this. It’s super taboo. Could you really not have waited a few more weeks?”</p>
<p>“Me?” Ronan was surprised. He felt his stomach drop, like his body already knew how badly this was going to end.</p>
<p>“Yeah, <em>you </em>kissed <em>me</em>!” Adam’s voice was back to tired and irritable.</p>
<p>“Don’t even, Parrish,” Ronan snapped back. “You kissed me back, and you’re the one who asked me to dance. We aren’t <em>just friends</em>, are we, Parrish? We haven’t been for ages. You’ve just had me on your stupid fucking hook, like I’m a complete idiot. Was this just a game to you?” He was vaguely aware of that being a stupid question—none of it had been like a game, no part of it.</p>
<p>“Obviously not!” Adam stood back up. His posture, in the dark, looked furious. “You think I’d risk my job and my housing just to mess with someone’s head? Is that seriously how you think of me?” When Ronan didn’t answer, Adam rushed on. “I just asked you for this one thing, to just wait a little longer if you were really interested.”</p>
<p>Ronan tried for a second to think how to fix this. “If you lose your housing, I could help you—”</p>
<p>“God, Ronan!” He heard Adam kick something. “That’s not the point right now, but I don’t need your handouts anyway!”</p>
<p>“What’s the point, then?” Ronan asked, anxious and vaguely pissed off.</p>
<p>“Just—why’d you have to do that?” Adam sounded more desperate than angry now.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Ronan. The words spilled out before he could think about them. “Why <em>would</em> I want to kiss somebody who started out as the thorn in my side? You and all your stupid fucking rules. I <em>am </em>an idiot.”</p>
<p>Adam rushed out and slammed the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ronan made the first of a few more questionable decisions.</p>
<p>He went back out. He bought the beer he’d been denied earlier. He drove out to the Barns as fast as humanly possible. He needed home now.</p>
<p>But when morning dawned, he found himself alone in an empty house. He went out to sit with the cows so he’d feel less lonely. He drank until he wasn’t thinking or feeling anymore. Before he tumbled into bed later, he shot off a quick text to Gansey. <em>Home for a few days don’t worry.</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ronan was sitting on the kitchen floor at the Barns. He leaned his head back against a cabinet and thought about how much simpler life would be if people would just mind their own fucking business. Then he could’ve kept feeding Chainsaw in his room and wouldn’t have had to buy a microwave for other people. Then his brother wouldn’t be practically bribing Gansey to update him on Ronan’s activities and whereabouts. Then... well, other things wouldn’t have gone wrong, either...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the last angsty chapter, I promise!</p>
<p>Just FYI, I've added chapters 4 &amp; 5 today.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronan lost track of the days, but he thought it might be Thursday when he got a curt text from Declan:<em> I don’t know what you’ve done, but Gansey is beside himself. Please let him know you’re not dead. I fully expect you to be back in DC for your finals, which according to your school’s calendar start on Monday.</em></p>
<p>Ronan was sitting on the kitchen floor at the Barns. He leaned his head back against a cabinet and thought about how much simpler life would be if people would just mind their own fucking business. Then he could’ve kept feeding Chainsaw in his room and wouldn’t have had to buy a microwave for other people. Then his brother wouldn’t be practically bribing Gansey to update him on Ronan’s activities and whereabouts. Then... well, other things wouldn’t have gone wrong, either...</p>
<p>But he’d been pretty successful at not thinking about that for five or six days.</p>
<p>He was tired of the solitude by now, so he texted Gansey—for Gansey’s sake, and a little bit for his own. Not for Declan’s. <em>Am not dead. Coming back today or tomorrow.</em></p>
<p>Gansey’s reply came quickly. <em>10/4</em>.</p>
<p>Ronan snorted fondly. What a nerd.</p>
<p>He drove back that night. He got to campus late enough that he suspected no one would be around, but still, when he’d climbed up to his floor of the dorm, he opened the stairwell door as slowly and quietly as possible and peeked into the hallway. No one was there. Thank fuck. Not that he was looking for anyone in particular...</p>
<p>He sprinted to his room and closed the door behind him quick. Gansey turned from his desk and raised an eyebrow. “Stealth mode,” he noted. “May I ask why? Or may I ask why on earth you disappeared for five days?”</p>
<p>“You may not,” said Ronan. He dropped all his stuff and flopped down on his bed, hoping he’d be able to sleep tonight and not think about any of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Declan had been correct that finals were starting Monday. Ronan was going to have to sit through two long, stupid exams he didn’t plan to study for. He was going to have to write four pages of bullshit for an English class. For his two art classes, he had to submit final projects. One of them was done—a ceramic sculpture of Chainsaw. But for his painting class, he’d never decided what to submit, and he didn’t have a lot of time to pull something together. He reluctantly went down to the art building basement Sunday night to assess his options. Of course, he already knew he only had two. All his finished paintings had been submitted for other assignments throughout the semester. He was either going to have to start something from scratch and have it done in 24 hours, or he was going to have to finish his portrait of a person he really didn’t want to think about.</p>
<p>He examined it in the crappy, dim basement lighting. He’d been off to a good start. He’d had such a clear vision for this painting. He hadn’t even really needed the subject to sit for him. Not like he could ever forget that face.</p>
<p>He wasn’t one for taking the easy way out, but the longer he sat and stared at the painting, the more he realized it was the <em>only </em>option. He couldn’t think of anything else to paint. He could finish this and exorcise some demons and then never, ever look at it again.</p>
<p>He stayed in the studio all night. He turned on some of the spotlights so he’d be able to see his colors properly. The face needed to be a little less pink, a little more brown, to capture the warmth of that skin. The hair was just a shade darker. He painted it the way it had looked the last time he’d seen it, long and messy, curling just a bit at the ends. He painted a smile he’d seen often—understated, barely-there, just turning up a little at the corners, and still, somehow expressing perfect happiness. He shaded in the high cheekbones and the dark circles under the eyes. The eyes weren’t looking at him—of course not—they were looking up, at the bubbles above his head. The last thing Ronan painted was a soft, golden glow in the background of all this. In the end, it wasn’t as vibrantly red as he’d first imagined it. There was the yellow and brown, the gray-blue of sea-colored eyes.</p>
<p>He only looked at the final product long enough to be sure it <em>was</em> finished. He left it drying. He would come back for it when he had to take it to class to submit. Then he’d forget all about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was surprisingly easy to avoid someone in the dorm if one did not want to see them. The key was to never leave one’s room unless it was 100% necessary and to never, ever go to the cafeteria. One was, fortunately, fine with eating complete junk or coercing one’s soft-hearted roommate to bring one food.</p>
<p>One’s roommate was, unfortunately, unwilling to ignore the sources of one’s malaise.</p>
<p>Ronan turned in his painting on Monday afternoon. His art teacher told him it was beautiful. He smiled sarcastically, baring his teeth so she’d stop talking about it.</p>
<p>By Thursday, most of the finals bullshit was over. He only had one more exam. Gansey was going on and on about his history final. “It was much more challenging than I’d expected,” he said. “Adam and I studied for it for five hours yesterday, and I still felt so unprepared.”</p>
<p>Ronan flinched at the name.</p>
<p>Gansey took notice, of course. Suddenly, he was speaking much more carefully. “He’ll have done brilliantly on it, of course,” he said. “I’ve hardly seen him for a week, how about you?”</p>
<p>Ronan didn’t deign to answer that.</p>
<p>After a beat, Gansey went on. “He’s probably been knee-deep in studying, hardly socializing at all. You know, that’s just how he is.”</p>
<p>Another uncomfortable pause.</p>
<p>“He asked after you,” Gansey said. “Yesterday.”</p>
<p>Ronan snorted. That seemed unlikely. “Why don’t you just say what you want to say?”</p>
<p>Gansey took a moment. “All right. Did something happen between you two?”</p>
<p>“We weren’t anything, so how could anything happen?” Ronan said, low and bitter.</p>
<p>Gansey gave him a look. A <em>how stupid do you think I am?</em> look. A <em>you can’t be serious</em> look. Then he said, “Did you fight?”</p>
<p>“Yup. Do I want to talk about it? No.”</p>
<p>That was the end of that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The semester ended. Ronan’s grades were decent enough to please his brother, and he had successfully avoided Adam for nearly two weeks. Before Gansey went home for the holidays, he asked, “Do you want to cancel your room transfer? If you aren’t going to... You know, with Adam?”</p>
<p>“Fuck no,” said Ronan, not meeting Gansey’s gaze. “I don’t want to live on this floor anymore.”</p>
<p>He asked himself how he was going to put that whole thing to rest. He’d told himself he wasn’t thinking about Adam anymore, and that his feelings had faded, but that was a lie. Ronan was adept at lying to himself, but now it wasn’t working. Finishing the painting hadn’t done the trick, either.</p>
<p>He asked himself why it hurt so much to lose something he’d never had.</p>
<p>Because he’d never felt this way before. Because he’d never known anyone like Adam. Because he’d been <em>so close</em> to having it. Because if he hadn’t been totally gone before, kissing Adam had finished him off. Because it was just his luck to lose something so good so fast.</p>
<p>He wondered how many times life was going to kick his ass.</p>
<p>He was pretty sure his heart was broken, and he felt so incredibly stupid about it, and he asked himself how he hadn’t managed to get any better at protecting himself since his parents died.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Is that really how you see me? Or used to?”</p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was barely audible—Ronan’s voice didn’t want to work properly. Again.</p>
<p>“I mean.” Adam glanced back again. “I can tell it’s me, obviously. Partially because I saw it before. But that’s not what I see when I look in the mirror.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronan was not successful in convincing Declan to let him out of their deal, so he had to survive one more semester.</p>
<p>Second semester was like this:</p>
<p>Ronan moved to his new room—8<sup>th</sup> floor instead of 6<sup>th</sup>. His new roommate was cool, but sometimes they secretly traded back, Gansey coming to stay on the 8<sup>th</sup> floor with Ronan, because honestly they all liked it better that way.</p>
<p>Ronan finally told Gansey the abridged version of what had happened with Adam, and thankfully, Gansey didn’t talk about him anymore after that except to confirm that Adam was still the 6<sup>th</sup>-floor RA. If he’d been punished at all, it wasn’t evident.</p>
<p>Ronan was a little bitter about that. They’d trashed the relationship over nothing, apparently.</p>
<p>He slogged through his classes.</p>
<p>His painting teacher from last semester asked him if she could put some of his paintings in an exhibit of student work in the library. He said sure. He didn’t care.</p>
<p>Gansey cared though—he was practically bursting with pride for Ronan, and he insisted they go to the library to see the exhibit when it opened.</p>
<p>It was a chilly morning on a random Tuesday, late January. They poked around the exhibit for a few minutes.</p>
<p>His teacher had used his two portraits. Matthew and Adam. Gansey looked sad about it but told him they were perfect.</p>
<p>They left, went to the library coffee shop, got coffee, passed back by the exhibit on their way out of the library. And there he was.</p>
<p>Adam. Ronan hadn’t seen him in two months, almost exactly. He was standing in the exhibit, studying his own face. His hair was short again. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and gloves, and Ronan couldn’t see an inch of that warm, brown skin.</p>
<p>All the same, he had stopped in his tracks at the sight. All other thoughts had left his head.</p>
<p>Gansey stopped too and said, “What do you want--?”</p>
<p>But he didn’t say it quietly enough. Adam turned around and startled when he saw them.</p>
<p>“Hi,” said Gansey, waving sheepishly. Ronan just stared.</p>
<p>Defying all his expectations, Adam said, “Hello,” and came over to them. He was smiling, and he looked nervous rather than angry. He glanced at Ronan but focused on Gansey instead.</p>
<p>“New semester going well for you?” Gansey asked brightly.</p>
<p>“It’s fine.” Adam’s voice was soft. He shifted his messenger bag from one shoulder to the other. “How’s yours?”</p>
<p>“It’s great, just fantastic!” said Gansey with far too much enthusiasm.</p>
<p>Adam turned and looked at Ronan resolutely. “And you?”</p>
<p>It took Ronan a minute to find his voice. He forced one of his sharkiest smiles and said, “I’m just peachy keen.”</p>
<p>“Classes better than last semester?” Adam asked.</p>
<p>In a flash, Ronan could see how this was going to be. Anytime they ran into each other, Adam was going to pretend they were friendly acquaintances. Not mortal dorm-floor enemies. Not almost-boyfriends. Barely anything at all.</p>
<p>So Ronan didn’t answer. He just glared.</p>
<p>There was an awkward beat where Gansey was obviously searching for something to say and coming up empty. Adam glanced back over his shoulder at his portrait, then turned to Ronan again. Quietly, in a completely different tone, he asked, “Is that really how you see me? Or used to?”</p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was barely audible—Ronan’s voice didn’t want to work properly. Again.</p>
<p>“I mean.” Adam glanced back again. “I can tell it’s me, obviously. Partially because I saw it before. But that’s not what I see when I look in the mirror.”</p>
<p>Occasionally Ronan wondered if Adam’s self-esteem was actually as bad as his. But he said only, “It’s stylized, Parrish. It’s not supposed to look real.”</p>
<p>Adam sighed. “All right.” He seemed to withdraw again. He said a formal goodbye to Gansey, waved at Ronan, and bolted.</p>
<p>About 7 hours passed—long enough for Ronan to feel safe, to think Gansey wasn’t going to make him talk about it. But that afternoon, in the 8<sup>th</sup>-floor room, Gansey looked up from a textbook and said, “Are you all right? After this morning?”</p>
<p>Ronan was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d been trying not to think about it. “Peachy keen, Gans,” he said again.</p>
<p>“You know that’s not convincing at all?” Gansey asked.</p>
<p>“I didn’t put much effort into it.”</p>
<p>Gansey hummed in agreement. “It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He didn’t seem unhappy to see you.”</p>
<p>“He treated me like I was nobody at all,” Ronan spat. His chest ached.</p>
<p>“Not when he asked about the painting.”</p>
<p>This was exactly why he wished Gansey wouldn’t make him talk about things. It made him feel emotions he didn’t want. He rolled over to look at his friend. “I had this really fucking stupid idea,” said Ronan. It had come to him mid-day, and he’d pushed it away.</p>
<p>“I love stupid ideas,” said Gansey. “What is it?”</p>
<p>Ronan tried to phrase it in a way that didn’t sound completely pathetic. “I thought about writing him a letter. You know I’m not any good with words, but it’d be easier than talking.”</p>
<p>“And what would you say?” Gansey asked him gently.</p>
<p>Ronan sighed and thought about rolling himself off the bed, into the floor, completing his diorama of “Depressed, Heartbroken Teenager.”</p>
<p>“I just thought about telling him that, yeah, someone does actually think he’s beautiful and loveable. Just so he’ll know... But it’s stupid. He wouldn’t even want to read it.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re wrong,” said Gansey, “and I think you should do it.”</p>
<p>Ronan gave into the impulse to fall off the bed.</p>
<p>Then he sat in the floor with Gansey and they drafted a letter. Ronan kept trying to back out, and Gansey wouldn’t let him, so instead he just groaned about how stupid words and feelings were. His feelings were never what he wanted them to be, and his words never explained them properly.</p>
<p>But they managed to finish. Gansey read it back to him.</p>
<p>“Dear Adam—”</p>
<p>(Ronan had argued about that, right off the bat. “Dear is too romantic,” he said.</p>
<p>“That’s how every letter starts,” Gansey said and wrote it down anyway.)</p>
<p>“I wasn’t completely honest this morning.”</p>
<p>(Ronan hated admitting that. But he hadn’t outright lied.)</p>
<p>“The painting does represent how I see you. I don’t remember if I ever told you my dad was Irish. He used to listen to Van Morrison (also Irish) when I was a kid. There was this one song we all liked, Sweet Thing, and I was thinking about it when I started the painting. One line especially—<em>your champagne eyes and your saint-like smile. </em>That’s how I see you. That’s why I painted bubbles and everything glowing around you. That’s what you were to me. Not the thorn in my side—you haven’t been that in a long time. Just wanted you to know, not everyone looks at you the way you look at yourself. Ronan.”</p>
<p>Ronan wanted to die of embarrassment “You left out all the profanity,” he said grumpily.</p>
<p>“It’s a love letter!” said Gansey. “It should be sweet.”</p>
<p>“This was a bad idea.”</p>
<p>“You’re not changing your mind now,” said Gansey. “I won’t let you. I’m off to deliver it.”</p>
<p>Ronan groaned. “Don’t talk to him about it at least, please. Just put it under his door.”</p>
<p>Gansey promised.</p>
<p>That was around 5 p.m. Ronan put on some EDM, blasting loud through his headphones, and tried to drown out all thought.</p>
<p>A little before 10, a piece of paper slid under Ronan’s door, and footsteps echoed down the hall. Ronan waited a minute before going to retrieve it. He was alone now—thankfully. He took a deep breath and he asked himself if he actually wanted to read this. He didn’t think it’d be mean or cruel, but he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t expecting miracles, in any case.</p>
<p>He unfolded it. Adam’s handwriting was messy but legible.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Ronan,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve been sitting here trying to think how to explain how I feel about your letter. I’ve never imagined anyone seeing me as anything as beautiful as that painting, or your song lyric. I’ve never believed anyone could.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve spent two months regretting what happened between us. I thought about reaching out, but I didn’t know what to say, and I thought you’d made it pretty clear you were done with me. I thought you’d never really gotten past that initial idea of me as a nuisance, out to spoil your fun, but also as someone who’d messed with your head and led you on. I swear I’m not that. It was all real for me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m sorry I blamed you for what happened. That was unfair. I wanted that kiss just as much, maybe more, than you did. In any case, I didn’t lose my job or housing, as you must know by now. I was on a sort of probation for a while—I had other RAs following me around and monitoring my behavior, which was kind of annoying but bearable. I found out eventually why Sarah, the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor RA, was so eager to report us. She has feelings for one of her residents, too, and resented me for acting on my feelings when she hadn’t. I think that’s pretty unfair, but whatever. I’m getting off topic.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I really liked you, and I haven’t stopped. If you want me, come find me. You know where I am.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>--Adam</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Ronan took a deep breath. Gaped at the words. Read them again, and then a third time, and a fourth time.</p>
<p>A voice in his head, maybe Gansey’s, was telling him this was a time to act on impulse instead of overthinking it. He threw on some clothes and rushed downstairs. He stood in front of Adam’s door for a moment, trying to catch his breath, then knocked.</p>
<p>Adam opened it. He was in pajamas, hair mussed, sticking straight up because it was so short now. “Were you asleep?” Ronan asked.</p>
<p>“In bed,” Adam said. “Not asleep.”</p>
<p>Ronan was still holding the letter. He held it out awkwardly.</p>
<p>Adam took it. “Well?” he said.</p>
<p>“Well.” Ronan took a step forward, and Adam didn’t step back or flinch away. Tentatively, clumsily, Ronan reached out, and when Adam still didn’t move away, Ronan put his arms around him.</p>
<p>Adam hugged him back, squeezing tighter than Ronan would’ve. He tightened his hold too. “Come in,” Adam murmured. He pulled Ronan into his room without letting go.</p>
<p>It took a minute or two to find his voice again. “Whoever made you feel bad about yourself,” said Ronan quietly, “they’re shitheads, okay? They’re wrong. That isn’t how anyone else sees you.”</p>
<p>Adam held him tighter still. He hadn’t moved to turn on the lights, so they stood in the dark, and after a while, Ronan found himself murmuring endearments, barely even aware of what he was saying. “Cutest boy, so fucking pretty, so smart it’s insane, you even think I’m funny...”</p>
<p>Adam laughed at that last one, which was when Ronan realized he’d been crying before. He’d been so quiet about it, but there was a tell-tale shake in his laughter. He finally let go, so Ronan reached out carefully—he could barely see—and wiped Adam’s eyes.</p>
<p>“Do you want me, then?” Adam asked.</p>
<p>“Yes. Fucking hell, Parrish, yes.” Ronan felt ridiculously fond in that moment. What a goofy boy—could he really not tell?</p>
<p>“Me too,” said Adam, “for ages. I’m sorry about everything.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” Ronan echoed.</p>
<p>“I’m tired,” Adam whispered. “I need to sleep. Will you stay with me?”</p>
<p>Finally, the happiness hit Ronan, overwhelming him and lighting him up from the inside. A bit like his painting of Adam. “Try getting rid of me. You’re stuck with me forever now, Parrish.” Belatedly he thought, <em>I shouldn’t have said forever, </em>but Adam only laughed again, and pulled him into bed.</p>
<p>“Thank god I’m not your RA anymore,” Adam said.</p>
<p>“’Cause you can’t keep your hands off me, Parrish?” That wasn’t inaccurate—Adam was fully on top of him at the moment, hands buried in Ronan’s t-shirt.</p>
<p>“No,” said Adam. Ronan could hear him smiling in the dark. “I mean that Henry never blows anything up.”</p>
<p>“Asshole.”</p>
<p>Adam kept laughing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me? Using the same song in two different fics? Never!</p>
<p>This is the last chapter I have planned, but I’m not going to mark this fic done yet. I’ve enjoyed writing this universe so much and seeing all the lovely feedback!! If you’d like to see more of this universe, please leave me a comment with your ideas or prompts or hit me up @ magicienetreveur.tumblr.com &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A Pynch Valentine's Day</p><p>~Note: this fic's main plot is finished as of chapter 6. I'm just adding extra scenes for fun!~</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronan woke up in Adam Parrish’s bed. It was his fifth day in a row waking up there, but the first time he’d woken alone. He vaguely remembered Adam moving around, getting ready for the day, before it was even light outside. Adam had kissed his forehead and said bye before leaving, but Ronan had only been half-aware.</p><p>It was February something. The days still blurred together for him, especially since he was only going to class about half the time. He remembered what was important: he’d been Adam’s boyfriend for two weeks.</p><p>They were deep enough into the semester that Adam was absolutely overloaded. He never seemed to sleep more than six hours a night. If he wasn’t in class, he was working. If he wasn’t working, he was doing class assignments. He’d see Ronan for meals, or back at night in the dorm, curled up together in bed.</p><p>During meals together, Adam complained to him about being so busy. The more he had to do, the less he enjoyed his RA tasks. “I can’t help room 113 with his homesickness,” he said over a bowl of chili in the cafeteria. “That’s not my personality at all—<em>don’t worry, it’ll be fine, just hold out for Spring Break.”</em></p><p>Ronan thought Adam was much nicer than he gave himself credit for. “Just say exactly that,” he said, mouth full of garlic bread.</p><p>He kept going. “And I don’t have time to deal with all the fighting between the guys in 120. One of them’s a complete asshole. It’s never going to get better. <em>And </em>I have a mandatory meeting with the other RAs tonight. We do this every month. It’ll waste two hours of my time and accomplish exactly nothing.”</p><p>“Sucks to be you,” said Ronan.</p><p>Adam snorted. “So sympathetic.” But he flashed him a grateful look—<em>thanks for listening to me rant.</em></p><p>Ronan lay in Adam’s bed replaying scenes like these—replaying the last two weeks in his head. Adam was so busy they hadn’t had a proper date yet. And it wasn’t as if Ronan <em>thought </em>or<em> cared</em> about such things, but a poster in the student union had reminded him it was nearly Valentine’s Day.</p><p>Once he’d mustered the energy to drag himself out of Adam’s bed—which was warm and cozy and smelled like his boyfriend—he threw on a hoodie and went down the hall to Gansey’s room, Ronan’s old room. He sat on what was now Henry’s bed and said to Gansey, “What the fuck do people do for Valentine’s Day?”</p><p>He tried to sound as careless as possible, looking at his phone. It was a miscalculation, because Gansey knew perfectly well Ronan didn’t give a shit about his phone. When he glanced up again, questioning the lack of reaction, he found Gansey positively beaming at him. “You want to take Adam out for Valentine’s Day?”</p><p>Ronan scowled. “I didn’t say that.”</p><p>Gansey kept grinning, ignored that comment, and started making suggestions. <em>Art museum?</em> Okay, Ronan liked art, but he didn’t like it enough to walk around and stare at it for hours. He wasn’t sure if Adam liked art at all, aside from Ronan’s painting of him, which he’d asked to have once the exhibit in the library closed.</p><p><em>Fancy restaurant?</em> Absolutely not. Fancy restaurants reminded him of Declan.</p><p><em>Mini golf?</em> In February? Who wanted to be outside in February?</p><p><em>Picnic? </em>Same answer. But that did give Ronan an idea of his own, so he ditched Gansey and went back to Adam’s room to find the rest of his clothes.</p><p>When he met Adam for lunch, he tried to be as casual as possible about the question. “What are the odds we could hang out on Sunday?”</p><p>“We hang out every day,” said Adam, through a mouthful of food. He wasn’t really paying attention, reading something for his next class, because he hadn’t had time to do it before.</p><p>“Getting tired of me, Parrish?” Ronan tried to sound like he was joking.</p><p>Adam didn’t buy it. He looked up from his reading, narrow-eyed. “No? What do you mean? I’m just saying, like, of course I’ll see you on Sunday.”</p><p>Ronan had a warm buzz in his stomach and tried not to show it. “Not like this, though. Would you have time to go somewhere?”</p><p>Adam considered it for a moment. “Sunday is the 14<sup>th</sup>.” Ronan shrugged, and Adam gave him half a smile. “Are you asking me out for Valentine’s Day?”</p><p>“No,” said Ronan, kicking Adam’s foot under the table.</p><p>Adam just smirked at him. “I work at the library until 4 that day. If we can do something after that, then yes, I’ll go out with you for Valentine’s Day.”</p><p>“Asshole,” said Ronan, but he couldn’t help smiling back.</p><p> </p><p>He told Adam to meet him in the dorm parking lot Sunday just after 4. Adam found him leaning against the BMW, which Adam somehow hadn’t ever seen. He examined it for a moment and said, “Classic,” before getting in. “So where are you taking me?”</p><p>“It’s a secret, Parrish. It’s a surprise. Long drive, though, so prepare yourself.”</p><p>“Long drive?” Adam asked. “How long are we gonna be out?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” said Ronan peevishly. “You got somewhere else to be?”</p><p>Adam just gave him a knowing look and settled into the passenger seat. “If you were planning on playing your EDM all the way out there, I’m gonna ask you to please not.”</p><p>Ronan flipped him off but then handed him the AUX cord. “What’s this for?” Adam asked.</p><p>“Seriously, Parrish? It’s for playing music.”</p><p>“I mean, I know that. But I don’t have any playlists...” He started messing around with the radio instead and landed on a “classic hits” station.</p><p>Ronan shot him a wry look. “This is better than my EDM?”</p><p>“Infinitely,” said Adam.</p><p>“Better hope that Madonna song you hate doesn’t come on.”</p><p>He saw Adam’s shy smile out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t believe you remember that,” Adam said. His Virginia accent was bleeding out more tonight than usual. Ronan loved it, but normally Adam tried to hide it, and Ronan didn’t comment. There was still so much of Adam’s past he didn’t know.</p><p>“I remember everything about that night,” Ronan said. The night they danced in a bar and kissed for the first time. The disastrous ending of the night no longer mattered.</p><p>Adam’s little smile grew.</p><p> </p><p>Ronan drove for an hour, out to the Maryland shore. He’d take any excuse to get out of the city, even if he preferred driving west, into the mountains. Once they began to glimpse the sea in the distance, Adam said, “What are we coming out here for?”</p><p>They were coming out here because of an offhand comment of Adam’s, months ago now, about how he’d never been to the beach. Ronan had said, “How is that possible? You grew up in Virginia, right? A state that’s literally on the coast?”</p><p>“I lived almost as far west as you could go and still be in Virginia,” Adam had said.</p><p>“Me too,” Ronan had told him, but then Adam hadn’t wanted to talk about it anymore, so he hadn’t found out if they’d lived near each other or not.</p><p> </p><p>Ronan found the town he’d looked up ahead of time and parked the BMW along a boardwalk overlooking the ocean. Adam looked over at him, waiting for an explanation. “Your first trip to the beach,” Ronan said. “I know it’s fucking February, but like, I figured we could just enjoy the view or whatever. I’ll bring you back in the summer if you want.”</p><p>(Should he say that? Was it too presumptuous to assume they’d still be together in the summer?)</p><p>Adam was beaming at him. It was another of those small, shy smiles, but so bright it was nearly blinding. Ronan couldn’t look away. After a moment, Adam said, “You really brought me all this way and we’re not even gonna go down to the water?”</p><p>“We can do whatever you want, Parrish.” He did <em>not</em> say, <em>I will always do whatever you want, Parrish...</em></p><p>Adam’s grin turned devilish, and he hopped out of the car. By the time Ronan caught up with him, Adam was already in the sand and taking off his shoes.</p><p>“Seriously?” Ronan said. “It’s like 10 degrees.”</p><p>Adam laughed. “Ronan, it’s like 45.” He pulled off his socks and sweater, too, and rolled up the bottom of his jeans.</p><p>“I’m gonna be civilized and keep my shoes on.”</p><p>Adam kept laughing—the sound echoed across the empty beach, out to the water. Ronan’s heart stopped.</p><p>“You’re never civilized,” said Adam. “That’s why I like you.”</p><p>No, his heart hadn’t stopped, it was actually going to explode—</p><p>This was maybe the freest he’d ever seen Adam. Adam rushed down to the water and straight into it. A wave hit him, and he screamed, but it was a joyful sound. “Ronan!” he called back. “The water’s so cold! Come on!”</p><p>“I didn’t actually come here to freeze my ass off, Parrish!” Ronan called back, but he went down to the end of the dry part of the sand and watched Adam as he kept moving forward, deeper into the water, greeting every wave. He didn’t come back out of the water until he was completely soaked up to his shoulders.</p><p>He came up to where Ronan had been waiting, admiring him, imagining another painting. He was shivering but looked brilliantly happy. “So, I love the beach,” he said, grinning.</p><p>Ronan smiled back and found he couldn’t be snarky about that. “The beach is pretty cool.”</p><p>“Pretty cold,” said Adam, laughing. “I think my teeth are chattering.”</p><p>“I’d offer you dry clothes, but I didn’t know you were actually crazy enough to run into the water in<em> February</em> in all your clothes.”</p><p>“You have my sweater, at least,” said Adam, unconcerned. He picked up his shoes and socks, and they walked back to the BMW.</p><p>“Hold on a sec,” said Ronan. He went to look in the trunk, hoping he’d find some clothes or a towel or something he’d forgotten about. He came back with a blanket. “Here’s my offering, Parrish.”</p><p>Adam smiled at him—a grateful one this time—and Ronan thought, <em>I love you. </em>And did not say it. Too soon.</p><p>“Would it be very weird if I sit in your car in just my sweater and that blanket?”</p><p>“Sounds hot, Parrish.” He wasn’t really joking. He let himself watch and appreciate Adam’s long legs and narrow waist and sharp shoulder blades and brown skin as Adam stripped off his wet clothes, put his sweater on, and wrapped the blanket around his waist.</p><p>They got back in the car, and since Adam was still shivering, Ronan cranked up the heat.</p><p>“What now?” Adam asked him brightly. He seemed so very present in this moment, so alive, and Ronan’s heart swelled. He thought, <em>this trip was a very good idea.</em></p><p>“I brought food,” said Ronan. “A car picnic.” He pulled two lunchboxes out of the backseat.</p><p>“You packed us a meal?” Adam asked, pleased.</p><p>“I cooked, Parrish. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Adam said lightly. “I didn’t know you could cook, Lynch. Especially since you have such a tenuous grasp on microwave usage.”</p><p>Ronan snorted. “Microwaving isn’t <em>cooking.”</em></p><p>Adam took one of the lunchboxes. “Okay, Ronan,” he said indulgently. Ronan liked the sound of his name in Adam’s voice, especially when the accent made an appearance. “What did you cook?”</p><p>“Grilled cheeses and chicken noodle soup,” said Ronan, blushing a bit. “Pretend we’re in 1<sup>st</sup> grade.”</p><p>He was rewarded with another lovely smile. “Sounds great.”</p><p>They ate for a while in silence. Adam wolfed his—Ronan had noticed how quickly Adam always ate. Was it because he was perpetually hungry? Was he afraid someone would take his food away? Ronan was always studying Adam out of the corner of his eye, but so much of Adam was still a mystery.</p><p>So he finished well before Ronan, washing it down with one of the Cokes Ronan had brought. Then he sighed contentedly and said, “That was actually really good, Lynch.”</p><p>Ronan snorted again. <em>“Actually.”</em></p><p>“Make me more of this sometime.”</p><p>“So fucking bossy, Parrish.”</p><p>Adam gave him the puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease, Lynch. I feel like it’d be even better fresh.”</p><p>“I’m so offended,” said Ronan. “It’s fucking great as it is.”</p><p>Adam reached across the gearshift and took his hand. “I’m trying to compliment you, Lynch. You know what? This has been a perfect Valentine’s date, so thank you.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to take compliments,” Ronan said honestly, looking at their intertwined fingers.</p><p>“Me neither,” said Adam softly, serious now.</p><p>“Anyway. Who cares about Valentine’s Day?”</p><p>“Who indeed?”</p><p>Ronan finished his sandwich one-handed, because Adam wouldn’t let go of him. When he was finished, he turned to admire his boyfriend, his profile lit up by the dying light of the day. “You wanna go home, Parrish?”</p><p>“Not until I’ve done this,” said Adam. He leaned over, put his free hand on Ronan’s cheek, and kissed him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for tonight.”</p><p>Ronan went in for another kiss—a longer, deeper one. And then, “It was nothing, Adam.”</p><p>“It wasn’t nothing,” Adam whispered back. Ronan felt Adam’s warm breath on his face. “It was so good. Thank you.”</p><p>They drove back home in the dark.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know if there's anything in particular you'd like to see in this universe!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adam makes some confessions.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a longer chapter for you: the promised revelation of Adam's backstory. It's an angsty one. TW for discussion of abuse.</p><p>But, Blue finally makes a bit of an appearance!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adam had food poisoning. Adam had been in the bathroom for 20 minutes now, presumably puking his guts out. He’d told Ronan not to come in. “I don’t want to subject you to this.”</p><p>“But who’s gonna hold your hair back, Parrish?” Ronan had asked. It was a joke. Adam’s hair was still short, much to Ronan’s disappointment.</p><p>Adam wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He’d just pushed Ronan out the bathroom door and said, “Just go wait in my room. You can’t do anything for me anyway.”</p><p>That stung a bit, so Ronan had gone back to Adam’s room grumpy. Now Adam’s phone, left behind on his desk, wouldn’t stop ringing. It was the third time in a row the same number had called. A Virginia number. After three times, it occurred to Ronan it might be one of Adam’s residents who was having a crisis. Still grumpy, he picked up. “Hello?”</p><p>There was silence on the line for a moment.</p><p>“Anyone there?” he asked.</p><p>A man said, “You’re not Adam.” He sounded vaguely surprised.</p><p>“Nope,” said Ronan shortly.</p><p>“He there?”</p><p>“Nope. Wanna leave a message?”</p><p>The man sighed, as if this was all incredibly tiresome. “Yeah, you tell him he oughta have the decency to answer the phone when his dad calls. You tell him if he doesn’t want his mama to starve, he’ll call me back.”</p><p>Ronan was struck speechless for a moment. Adam’s parents? Weren’t they supposed to be out of the picture? Finally he said, “All right.”</p><p>“All right,” the man repeated mockingly. “I’m not gonna stop calling.”</p><p>“Fine.” Ronan hung up quickly but kept staring at Adam’s phone, the words Call Ended flashing there. It wasn’t fine, not at all. It was so, so bad. <em>Should</em> he tell Adam? Would Adam be angry with him for answering? It had become abundantly clear that beyond that initial admission—<em>I don’t speak to my parents anymore</em>—he wasn’t going to say anything else about them. It was a taboo subject.</p><p>But his dad apparently hadn’t gotten the ‘we’re not speaking anymore’ memo, or he just didn’t care about Adam’s wishes.</p><p>Ronan felt like puking, too.</p><p>It was less than two minutes before Adam appeared. He looked pale and drawn and awful. “I feel like I just voided everything I’ve ever eaten,” he said, voice creaky. He came and sat on his bed with Ronan. Ronan was still holding the phone, and Adam looked down at it then back up quizzically. There was something like the ghost of amusement on his face. As much humor as he could muster at the moment.</p><p>Ronan hadn’t had time to decide what to do, but he stumbled forward anyway. He put a hand on Adam’s forehead—burning hot, as he suspected. “You’ve got a fever. You better drink some fucking fluids, man.”</p><p>The amusement became a little more obvious. “Will do, doc,” he croaked.</p><p>Ronan couldn’t return Adam’s feeble smile. He decided to just put it out there. “Listen, Parrish. You clearly feel like shit right now.”</p><p>“What gave you that idea?” asked Adam, dry as ever.</p><p>Ronan ignored that. “If I had something shitty to tell you, would you wanna wait until you’re better to hear it?”</p><p>The little smile disappeared. “Something shitty?” Adam repeated.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Like how shitty? On a scale of 1-10?”</p><p>Ronan didn’t know enough about the situation to say. “It’s pretty high up there, Parrish.”</p><p>Adam slumped against him and put his head on Ronan’s shoulder. He held his hand out for the phone. “Did someone call?” When Ronan didn’t answer right away, he said, “You can tell me. It’s okay.”</p><p>Ronan wasn’t the softest of people, but he tried to say it as gently as possible. “Your dad called.”</p><p>Adam stiffened but didn’t sit back up. He curled his fingers tightly around his phone. “My dad,” he said, voice expressionless.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“And you answered it?”</p><p>There it was—the first hint of anger in his tone.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have—I didn’t know who it was—”</p><p>Now Adam did sit up—with some difficulty—to glare at Ronan. “Why were you answering my phone at all?”</p><p>Ronan held his hands out, helpless. “The same number had called three times in a row. I thought it might be a crisis.”</p><p>Adam looked down at his phone and mumbled, “It always is. What’d he want?” There was the accent. Its first appearance of the day. He was too tired and upset to hold it in, clearly.</p><p>Sometimes Adam Parrish Studies wasn’t a very fun major.</p><p>“He just wants you to call him back, I guess,” said Ronan.</p><p>Adam shot him a sharp look. “That’s it?” Ronan shrugged, and Adam just seemed to be getting angrier. “Just tell me, Lynch, for god’s sake.”</p><p>“I mean...” Ronan tried to think if there was a way to soften the words. “He said to tell you to pick up when he calls, but like... fucking don’t, Parrish.” He got another glare for that. “And he said something about your mom... needing something.”</p><p>“How vague,” said Adam. “<em>What</em> did he say she needs?”</p><p>God, this was so uncomfortable. Ronan felt like <em>he </em>had a fever—all sweaty palms and flushed face. “Um. Food, I guess.”</p><p>Adam rolled his eyes. “Christ.” He set the phone down on the bed and rubbed his eyes.</p><p>“You don’t have to call them back, Parrish,” Ronan said, still trying to sound gentle. “You don’t owe them anything.”</p><p>“You don’t know jack shit,” said Adam, quiet and furious. “You don’t know anything about anything, so don’t tell me what to do.”</p><p>Finally, Ronan’s temper flared. “I don’t know shit because you don’t <em>tell</em> me shit.”</p><p>Adam still had his hands over his eyes. “Just get out of here, Lynch. I can’t deal with you right now.”</p><p>Ronan left.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t see Adam again that night or all the next day. It was a Monday, and those tended to be hectic for Adam. Not that Adam should’ve been going to class and work if he was still sick, but he probably had, so Ronan let the silence slide. He was counting down the hours until he’d call or storm down to Adam’s room, because even if Adam was angry, Ronan wasn’t going to be cut off again.</p><p>He was sleeping in Gansey’s room that night, having traded with Henry again, and he woke up to Gansey hovering over him in the morning. “Are you going to class today?”</p><p>Ronan snorted. “Fuck, no.” Not when he felt so angry and miserable.</p><p>Gansey looked resigned to that. “Fine. Will you come to lunch with Adam and me?”</p><p>Ronan perked up a little. “Adam?”</p><p>“Yeah. You know, your boyfriend?” Gansey smiled his ‘proud father’ smile.</p><p>“Ugh.” Ronan hid his face in his pillow. “Does he know I might come?”</p><p>Amazingly, Gansey didn’t ask what he meant by that, so maybe he knew about the fight already. “He knows it’s a possibility.”</p><p>“’Kay,” said Ronan into his pillow. “I’ll come.”</p><p>He met them in the cafeteria a little after noon. Adam had his backpack in the seat next to him. Ronan stood and stared at it just long enough to get his boyfriend to look at him. Adam glanced up from a physics textbook, said hello, and went back to it.</p><p>Ronan sat down beside an anxious-looking Gansey and didn’t say hi back.</p><p>They didn’t talk about it until Gansey left for a minute to talk to somebody else he knew. Ronan had been wavering between sharp sarcasm—because he was hurt—and checking on Adam’s welfare. With anyone else, the latter would’ve been a safer bet. With Adam... he had no idea.</p><p>He settled on something in between. Mild sarcasm. “Having a good week so far, Parrish?”</p><p>“Yeah, fantastic,” Adam mumbled, still not looking up from his book and his food. He hadn’t again, this whole time.</p><p>Ronan took the daring step of reaching across the table and taking Adam’s book away from him. He was rewarded with a shocked glare. “Not giving it back until you tell me if you’re all right.”</p><p>Adam sighed like Ronan was exhausting him. “I’m <em>fine.</em> I don’t have to tell you everything, Ronan.”</p><p>“When did I say you have to tell me everything?” Ronan asked, still holding on tight to the book. “Are you mad at me?”</p><p>Adam rolled his eyes. “I wish you hadn’t done it.” He didn’t specify what<em> it</em> was. “But I realize you didn’t know.”</p><p>Ronan leaned across the table to force Adam to meet his eyes. “Why’d you ignore me for two days, then?”</p><p>Adam looked back, defiant. “You didn’t talk to me for two days either.”</p><p>“It was pretty clear you wanted your fucking space.”</p><p>Adam retreated again, leaning back and looking away.</p><p>Ronan forced himself to soften up again, like the other day. “Just don’t disappear on me again, please? Not like last semester.”</p><p>Adam put his hand on his forehead, like he had a migraine. Was he still sick? “Wasn’t gonna,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>Gansey came back, and that was the end of it. They walked back to the dorm together, and Ronan followed Adam to his room. When they reached the door, Adam looked back at him, wary.</p><p>“I won’t come in if you don’t want me to,” Ronan said. “Just...” He was out of words, so he pulled Adam into a hug instead, holding on tightly. He was relieved to feel Adam lean into him and wrap his arms around Ronan’s waist.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Adam murmured.</p><p>“Don’t be.” Ronan’s tiny bit of anger had gone away.</p><p>“I’m bad at letting people in.” Adam’s voice was pained and barely audible.</p><p>“So’m I.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to talk about it.”</p><p>Ronan hesitated. This felt like a critical moment—he had to find the perfect thing to say. Slowly, carefully, he said, “I wish you would tell me, so I could like, help, maybe. But you don’t have to. I’ll let it go after right now.”</p><p>Adam let go of him—which was massively disappointing—turned and unlocked his door. But then he turned back again, took Ronan’s hand, and pulled him inside. He tossed his backpack on the floor and his keys on his desk. Then he got on his bed and pulled Ronan down with him. He pressed Ronan onto his back, then climbed onto him.</p><p>Ronan was confused and more than a bit aroused. They hadn’t been doing much besides kissing and fumbling—did Adam want to try something <em>now,</em> of all moments?</p><p>Instead, he lay more or less on top of Ronan and tucked his head into the crook of Ronan’s neck. He whispered, “If I’m going to tell you this, I don’t want to be looking at each other.”</p><p>Ronan put all other thoughts away. “Only if you want to,” he said.</p><p>“I should,” said Adam. He sounded deeply sad about it, and Ronan wanted to fix that. He wanted Adam to always be as happy as he had that day at the beach. Was that an impossible goal? The only moments he even came close to being that happy were when he was with Adam.</p><p>It didn’t seem helpful to say, again, <em>you don’t have to tell me,</em> so he waited.</p><p>When Adam finally spoke, it wasn’t what Ronan expected. Still whispering, he said, “I’ve been working one job or another—usually more than one—since I was 13. I was actually too young to be hired at my first job, but they looked the other way.”</p><p>Ronan tightened his arms around Adam’s waist.</p><p>“At first, I worked one job so I could contribute to the household—you know, they said it was only fair, since they were feeding me and housing me.”</p><p>No need to specify who <em>they</em> were, either. Ronan’s blood pressure started to rise. Not finding any words, he just patted Adam’s back.</p><p>Adam went on. “Then I worked three jobs so I could contribute to the household <em>and</em> pay for myself to go to private school—I thought that was my only shot at a really good college.”</p><p>“But you’re fucking, like, Einstein or something,” Ronan said.</p><p>Adam snorted. He sounded a little lighter when he said, “Now, I have a scholarship for my tuition, but I work at the library to pay for food and books, and I’m an RA to pay for my housing. Because I don’t have any support. I’ve been emancipated since I was 17.”</p><p>Ronan wasn’t entirely sure what emancipation meant when it wasn’t followed by <em>proclamation</em>. “So you were... freed?”</p><p>He felt Adam smile—just for a moment—against his neck. “More or less. It meant, legally, I didn’t have to live with them anymore. They couldn’t make me come back or make me give them money. Actually, for a while, there was a restraining order, so they couldn’t come near me at all.”</p><p>Ronan stiffened, and his mind was racing. “A fucking restraining order? Why?” Was it bad to ask why?</p><p>“So he couldn’t keep hurting me,” said Adam, quiet and matter-of-fact. After a little pause, he said, “I was going to keep living there until college—I didn’t want to have to pay rent anywhere—but there was this one incident that was just so much worse than anything before. My girlfriend at the time basically said, ‘you go to the police or I will.’”</p><p>Ronan was both jealous of and grateful for this ex-girlfriend.</p><p>“She convinced me to come live with her for the last year of high school. She lived in this crazy house full of psychic women, so it was like, what’s one more person?”</p><p>“What the fuck,” Ronan commented.</p><p>He felt Adam smile again, but it went away quickly. “I loved them—everyone in her house—but I always felt like I owed them something I couldn’t repay, and I hated that feeling. It ruined my relationship with her.”</p><p>When he paused again, Ronan ventured to say, “She was right, though. If they were hurting you... those shitheads.” If he weren’t currently holding onto Adam for dear life, he’d be punching something. Who would hurt a person like Adam? Who would hurt any kid? Actually, he wished he could go back in time and punch Adam’s parents. “It’s really good you got out.”</p><p>Bluntly, Adam said, “I think she thought I’d die if I didn’t.”</p><p>He pushed down his swelling anger and thought, <em>Ronan a year ago wouldn’t have been able to do that.</em> He said, “Do you think she was right about that?”</p><p>“Ro...”</p><p>This was a new nickname. He was hopelessly endeared. And still horribly angry.</p><p>“If I tell you something I’ve been keeping from you, will you be mad?”</p><p>“You really think I’m gonna get mad at <em>you</em> right now, Parrish?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” His voice was tiny.</p><p>Ronan held him tighter still. “I’m not. Tell me anything.” <em>Am I okay at this boyfriend thing?</em> He asked himself. <em>Am I saying the right things?</em></p><p>Adam sighed. “I can’t hear out of my left ear.”</p><p>Ronan’s mind scrambled to process that.</p><p>“That was him. That was the worst night, and that’s when Blue—my girlfriend—said, you have to get out of there, or that future you’re working for won’t mean anything.”</p><p>Ronan tried to remember if he’d ever noticed Adam straining to hear. Maybe in the club that night? He’d been thinking about other things. Sometimes Adam zoned out and didn’t seem to catch when he asked a question—was this why?</p><p>He could feel Adam bracing himself for some kind of reaction, so Ronan tried to think of something to lighten the moment a bit. “I need to write this Blue person a thank-you note.”</p><p>Adam snorted again. <em>“You,</em> writing a thank-you letter?”</p><p>“Fuck, Parrish, I’m polite as hell.”</p><p>Adam actually laughed—finally.</p><p>Ronan’s heart was going to burst again. He had too many feelings at once—happiness that Adam was okay and laughing, appreciation for that girl, anger and love that threatened to crush him with their force. He took a deep breath. “I had no idea... about your ear. But, look, I’m really fucking glad you’re here and you’re all right.”</p><p>Adam nodded, bumping Ronan’s shoulder.</p><p>Finally, he got back around to thinking about the phone call. “Don’t let those assholes back in your life, Adam. They don’t deserve you or any help from you.”</p><p>“I don’t even know how he got my number,” said Adam miserably. “But sometimes I wonder...” He stopped abruptly, and Ronan could almost feel how hard he was thinking. He’d tensed up again. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s okay.”</p><p>He was confused. “Your ex?”  </p><p>“No. My mom.”</p><p>Too many thoughts spinning around—he couldn’t sort them out enough to say something.</p><p>Adam breathed in and out deeply. “I wonder if he hits her now that I’m not around to take it all. I <em>do</em> wonder if she has enough to eat without my income.”</p><p>“You know that, like, it’s the parents’ job to have an income and feed the kid, right? Did she hurt you too?” There was no other, more important question.</p><p>Adam’s voice went tiny again. “She told me it was my fault. I needed to behave better.”</p><p>Ronan’s blood boiled. His voice was a little too cold and harsh when he said, “Don’t send them a goddamn cent, Adam. Change your number and don’t ever let them get another piece of you, okay?”</p><p>Adam went slack, sinking into Ronan a bit more. “You think?”</p><p>“1000 percent. Are you kidding me?”</p><p>“I know you’re right...”</p><p>“Don’t say <em>but,</em> Parrish. Don’t. If you need another opinion, I’ll get Gansey to come down here and tell you the same thing. And Henry and Noah. I’ll get your ex on the phone, and she can tell you again.”</p><p>Adam shivered a little. “Just help me stick to it.”</p><p>“Piece of cake, Parrish.” Ronan thought back to his own childhood. It probably hadn’t been perfect, but it looked so rosy now, in retrospect. He missed his parents horribly. Why couldn’t Adam have had a family like his? “I only have half a family now, Parrish, but you can have ‘em. I mean, you can be a Lynch from now on.”</p><p>Adam sounded much happier when he said, “Does that mean I get to live on the farm with Optimus Prime and—what was it? Backhoe?”</p><p>“Hey, don’t forget the birds and the goats. We’ve got a whole posse there, Parrish. We’ll kick anybody’s ass who comes near you.”</p><p>Adam sighed, pleased now. “How lucky I am.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Love confessions coming up! Let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see in this universe :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fluff, some more angst, then fluff again :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a sex scene in this (my first, yikes!). It's not very explicit at all, but I did change the rating for that. If you want to skip it it starts with "Ronan’s childhood bed was quite narrow" and ends with "only a few seconds later."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That first time Adam had mentioned his parents—in the cafeteria, way back when they were first getting to know each other—Ronan had recognized it as an attempt at reciprocity. <em>Here, you told me something painful, so I’ll do the same.</em></p>
<p>He was pretty sure that wasn’t what Adam had in mind now, when they were still in bed together after all his revelations and he said, “If you ever want to tell me more about your brothers and your parents—what happened to them—you can.” His voice was soft. They were spooning now, still not looking at each other’s faces.</p>
<p>Ronan sighed without meaning to, and immediately Adam tensed in his arms. “You don’t have to,” he said.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Parrish,” he said. He started to lay out the facts. He tried to be unemotional about it, which was stupid and impossible of course.</p>
<p>Murdered dad—shady business deals. Comatose mother—one of the rare people who actually dies of a broken heart. Ronan might not’ve believed that was the reason except that he’d been so close to dying for the same reason after he lost them both. And so. Drinking and drugs and street racing and a suicide attempt...</p>
<p>Adam was very still and quiet through all this. He didn’t betray any surprise, and in fact, at that last piece of information, he said rather sadly, “I had figured that part out.”</p>
<p><em>How?</em> Ronan wondered. “Are you just that smart, or did Gansey tell you?”</p>
<p>“I’ve seen your scars,” said Adam. “That one time we showered together. And I’ve felt them sometimes when we hold hands.”</p>
<p>Ronan drew in a sharp breath. He hadn’t wanted Adam to know about that—he still didn’t really. Didn’t want Adam to think he was weak. But apparently he wasn’t as great at keeping secrets as he thought.</p>
<p>Adam squeezed Ronan’s hand and asked, still so soft, “Do you still feel that way sometimes? I mean, do you want...?”</p>
<p>“No.” It had taken herculean effort to stop hating himself and actually see some brightness in his future, but he <em>had</em>. Now, he had Adam in his future. Maybe. Probably. Even if everything else was still a question mark.</p>
<p>Adam accepted that. “Okay. Just know if you do, you can talk to me.”</p>
<p><em>And this is the guy who thinks he isn’t any good at comforting homesick residents,</em> Ronan thought. “Thanks, Parrish.”</p>
<p>Another squeeze. “It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t, though. It was everything. No more secrets between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except... okay. There was one more. It was on Ronan’s mind every single day now. Every day since the beach, which was the first time he’d let himself think it. <em>I love Adam</em>. He knew it was too soon to say it. They’d only been dating for a few weeks.</p>
<p>During those two days of silence between them after Adam’s dad called, Ronan had contemplated the impossibility of Adam Parrish ever loving him back. Adam liked him. Adam found him attractive. Adam trusted him somewhat. But also. Adam was angry. Adam might not forgive him. Everything might already be over.</p>
<p>Now, they were okay. Adam changed his number, and they moved on.</p>
<p>And yet... Ronan kept thinking, <em>he doesn’t love me back. Or if he does, it’s not the same as how I feel.</em></p>
<p>He felt everything too much, all the time. Also. He’d never understood his brother’s casual dating, his long list of exes. He only understood love like his parents’—the kind you’d die for. Lifelong. No one else in the world you could possibly love as much. Soulmates.</p>
<p>He’d gathered, at this point, that most people didn’t look at love and dating the way he did, but he hadn’t been able to shake the deep-down belief that there was only one person out there for him. Only one person he could love forever.</p>
<p>Had he found that person?</p>
<p>He sat on all those feelings, didn’t say a word about it to anyone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was March. He’d been Adam’s boyfriend for almost 6 weeks. He was still counting because he couldn’t believe his good luck, and he wanted to know how long it’d hold out.</p>
<p>They were having lunch in the cafeteria with Gansey again. For once, Adam wasn’t doing homework while eating. He was looser and happier today, and Ronan kept kicking him under the table just to keep getting those fond, exasperated looks Adam was so good at.</p>
<p>Gansey was reading some kind of travel magazine while he ate, and he kept sighing and saying how he wished he had the time to go to this place or that.</p>
<p>Then he looked up and asked Adam, “What are you doing for spring break?” It was about a week and a half away.</p>
<p>Adam was slowly chewing something and waited until he was done to answer. “Nothing. Library’s closed that week, so I’ll probably just catch up on school stuff and sleep a <em>lot.”</em></p>
<p>“Boring,” said Ronan. He meant, <em>when do you ever let yourself have fun?</em></p>
<p>“And what exciting adventure will you be off to?” Adam asked him dryly.</p>
<p>He shrugged. He wasn’t sure, actually. He’d been debating going home or spending the week with Adam.</p>
<p>Gansey said, “You’d be welcome to come home with me, Adam, if you wanted a change of scene.”</p>
<p>Or maybe he could have both.</p>
<p>“Or me,” Ronan said, before he could second-guess himself. “My place is cooler than Gansey’s.”</p>
<p>Adam shot him half a smile. “That’s nice of y’all, but I don’t want to intrude.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t—” he and Gansey said at once.</p>
<p>“—be fucking intruding, Parrish, I don’t think anyone’s going to be there but me. I was just gonna go ‘cause I miss it.”</p>
<p>Adam looked at each of them in turn. He was obviously considering it.</p>
<p>Gansey smiled one of those ‘proud father’ smiles again. “Come to think of it, you probably would like Ronan’s better than mine...”</p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” said Adam. His standard response to most decision-making situations. But later, when they were alone, he pulled Ronan into a hug and said into his ear, “Do you really want me to come home with you?”</p>
<p>“Fucking hell, yes, Parrish.” It was a brand-new idea, but he wanted it terribly. He wanted to show Adam his home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>About 12 days later, he got his wish. They left in the morning, and as soon as they were out of the city, Ronan took a deep, dramatic breath. “Thank god, I can breathe again.”</p>
<p>Adam laughed. Mission accomplished.</p>
<p>It was about a three-hour drive, and he let Adam pick the music again. Adam was in high spirits, it seemed, talking more than usual about everything that had happened in his classes and at the library that week. Coworker drama. Conversations with his professors.</p>
<p>“I bet you’re every teacher’s pet,” Ronan commented. Adam just rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>Once they were off the interstate and had driven out into the country a bit, Adam asked, “How far do you live from everything else?”</p>
<p>“Blissfully far,” Ronan told him.</p>
<p>A minute later, face turned away, voice still calm, Adam said, “This looks eerily like the area around my hometown.”</p>
<p>Ronan tried to tread carefully. “You never said where you’re from.”</p>
<p>“It’s about an hour farther west.” Adam was still looking away, taking in the countryside.</p>
<p>“Damn, Parrish. You really were barely in Virginia.” That seemed like a pretty safe observation.</p>
<p>Adam snorted. “I know. Right on the border.” He didn’t sound upset—good.</p>
<p>When they turned onto the long, winding drive up to the Barns, Adam asked, “Is this your driveway, or just a very narrow road?”</p>
<p>“Driveway.” Ronan took the dips and curves fast. It felt good, and he could do this in his sleep.</p>
<p>“I bet it’s gorgeous in summer,” Adam said, looking up at the trees, a few of which were beginning to show color. “When everything’s all leafed out. I bet it makes a canopy overhead, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>“It does. Didn’t know you were such a tree-hugger.” Ronan shot Adam a smile. <em>That was a joke. Please don’t take it personally.</em> He was still testing boundaries, even in meaningless situations.</p>
<p>Adam was fine. “Yup,” he said. “The only good thing about my hometown was the forest all around. I used to go wandering through it whenever I had free time, just to get away from everything.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you ever worry about getting lost?”</p>
<p>“No. The trees always seemed to help me find my way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Inside the house, Adam was curious about everything. He looked over the wall of family pictures and asked questions. “Where was this? Did you take that picture? It’s crooked. Who’s the woman who’s not your mom?” And so on. Afterwards, he sighed and said, “You all looked so happy together.”</p>
<p>“We were.” Ronan slid an arm around Adam and pulled him closer, for a sideways hug. Probably they both needed it.</p>
<p>When they’d gone upstairs and put their things away, then come back down to the kitchen to assess the food situation, Adam said, “This place looks so lived-in. It looks comfortable, you know? Not like those minimalist houses, all white walls and sleek furniture, you know? Things don’t match here.”</p>
<p>“Are you saying that’s a bad thing?” Ronan really couldn’t tell, based on the tone.</p>
<p>“No.” Adam came over to where he stood examining the pantry contents and hugged him from behind. “I just don’t know which of those I want, you know? They’re both so different from what I ever had.”</p>
<p>Ronan didn’t have a good reply, so he patted Adam’s hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The kitchen contents were severely lacking, so they made a grocery run. After, he took Adam around to meet all the animals, and Adam insisted on knowing all their names and ended up laughing hysterically—again—over a couple of them. “Dumptruck? Meatpie? Falconator? You do know that’s a chicken, not a falcon, right?”</p>
<p>Ronan was honestly delighted to have made Adam this giddy. “The big, mean rooster is Artemis Fowl.”</p>
<p>Adam howled. “That. Is. Brilliant. What even goes on in your head?”</p>
<p>Impossible to say. “Hey, I didn’t name all of them. You can blame Matthew for Harry Potter over there.”</p>
<p>“I will when I see him,” Adam said, and Ronan’s heart grew three sizes like the fucking Grinch. Adam wanted to meet his brother?</p>
<p>Adam went over to pet Harry—one of the most rambunctious goats—and Harry tried to eat Adam’s shirt. They wrestled for a minute until Adam got away. One of the other goats had come over to watch the action. Ronan was shooing the chickens back into their pen, but he said, “That nosy one’s Hornmaster, by the way.”</p>
<p>Over his shoulder, Adam called back to Ronan. “Harry Potter is a much less weird name than Hornmaster. You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”</p>
<p>“You mean it’s much less creative,” Ronan said.</p>
<p>Adam came over and hugged him. Again. The third in as many hours. Ronan was absurdly pleased. Adam grabbed on tight to Ronan’s shirt and said, “That too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They spent half the week at the Barns. On Saturday, their last full day, they ate a picnic in the backyard, and then stayed outside. The weather was warming up, and the sky was perfectly clear. “We’re not wasting a day like this inside,” Adam said, and Ronan agreed.</p>
<p>They sat under an early-blooming dogwood tree, and when they’d finished eating, Ronan leaned up against it and considered taking a nap. But then Adam lay down and put his head in Ronan’s lap, and Ronan was suddenly very awake. Adam closed his eyes and echoed Ronan’s thoughts—“I could so easily fall asleep here.”</p>
<p>Ronan ran a hand through Adam’s short hair, which felt strangely daring even after so many weeks together. “Can if you want to, Parrish.”</p>
<p>“Mmm, keep doing that,” Adam said dreamily.</p>
<p>Over their heads, a breeze shifted the dogwood branches and made a lovely rustling sound through all the backyard trees. A few petals fell and drifted down like snowflakes, landing around Adam gracefully, and Ronan itched for drawing materials, even just a pen and paper, to capture this moment.</p>
<p>But he couldn’t, so he just let himself enjoy it. The sun and the breeze and the shifting shadows, and <em>Adam,</em> so beautiful and so close, drifting in and out of sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later, back inside, Adam sat on the kitchen counter and watched Ronan make spaghetti sauce. He sighed deeply, and Ronan said, “What was that for?”</p>
<p>“This place is amazing,” said Adam. “I can’t imagine growing up somewhere like this.”</p>
<p>Adam seemed like he fit here perfectly, like he’d sprung out of the fields out behind the house, fully-formed. Fuck his stupid parents for giving him such a miserable childhood...</p>
<p>Before Ronan could speak, Adam went on. “I can understand why you miss it so much when you’re away.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have to miss it for much longer—ah, fuck!” Some of the sauce splashed out of the pot and burned him.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Adam asked.</p>
<p>Ronan tried to clean up the mess. “I mean, I told you I’m only doing one year of college. So May comes, and I’m home free. Literally. I won’t have to leave again.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Adam slowly. “Right.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ronan’s childhood bed was quite narrow, and after weeks of cramming themselves into dorm beds together, Adam refused to sleep in it with him. The two double beds were in his parents’ room or Declan’s—two unpleasant choices for two different reasons. But they ended up in Declan’s. Ronan was settling in when suddenly Adam was climbing on top of him.</p>
<p>This was a very welcome turn of events, but Ronan’s stupid brain chose to say, “Thought you wanted your space, Parrish.”</p>
<p>Adam wasn’t bothered. He started kissing Ronan’s neck, whispering, “I wanted <em>more</em> space. Not my <em>own </em>space, all alone.”</p>
<p>Ronan put his hands on Adam’s narrow waist. Adam wasn’t wearing pants, only underwear and a t-shirt. He shifted to perch himself more comfortably on Ronan’s lap, and suddenly everything was lined up perfectly, and Ronan had to take a long, deep breath. Just like that, he was stupidly aroused. Adam was too—he could feel it.</p>
<p>Adam breathed in his ear, “Can I take your shirt off?”</p>
<p>“God, yes, please.” Ronan’s voice was shaky.</p>
<p>Adam sat up and smiled, pulling Ronan up too. He had both their shirts off in a few seconds. Adam was efficient at everything.</p>
<p>They’d been this far before. Shirtless making out. Sometimes they got handsy. Whenever it seemed like they might go further, one of them got embarrassed or sleepy, and they stopped. <em>Not this time, </em>Ronan thought. <em>Please.</em> <em>This time I want more</em>.</p>
<p>Adam upped the ante right away by slipping a hand under Ronan’s waistband. “Can I?” he whispered.</p>
<p>“Yes. Please.” Did he need to stop saying please? Was that weird?</p>
<p>He didn’t really care once Adam’s hand was on him. He tipped his head back, and Adam kept kissing his neck while he let his hands roam. Ronan cupped the back of Adam’s head in his palm, ruffling the hair there. “You should grow your hair back out,” he said. “Like last semester. That was so hot, Parrish.” His voice hitched a bit as Adam kept up his ministrations.</p>
<p>“You’re one to talk,” Adam murmured. “I know for sure you’ll never let yours get past peach fuzz.”</p>
<p>Probably the only reason he would is if Adam really wanted him to.</p>
<p>“Okay, but your hair’s prettier than mine.”</p>
<p>Adam half laughed and stopped everything he was doing for a moment. “Never been told that before.”</p>
<p>“It is. When it’s long and messy like that.”</p>
<p>“Noted,” said Adam.</p>
<p>Ronan used this pause as an opportunity to flip them over so Adam was under him instead. He gave his boyfriend a long kiss, then propped himself up on his elbows to admire Adam in the low light. He fumbled a bit for words. Now wasn’t a moment for last names. “Adam.”</p>
<p>Adam’s eyes fluttered closed. “Mmm?”</p>
<p>“Would it be okay if I went down on you?”</p>
<p>His eyes flew back open. “Uh, yes. Definitely.”</p>
<p>Ronan made short work of Adam’s boxers, admired that part of Adam’s anatomy, which he hadn’t seen nearly as much as he wanted, then spent some time experimenting, seeing what Adam liked best, what got the best reactions. He liked that Adam’s knees had gone shaky. He liked the view he had of one of Adam’s perfect hands twisted in the sheets. He was embarrassed when he realized how close he was to coming from this alone. In the end, he followed Adam, only a few seconds later.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The break ended. The week after the break was a nearly Adamless week, which was a rude shock after <em>that night,</em> and so many days together. “I have so much to catch up on,” Adam said, during the five minutes they spent together on Monday. “I don’t think I’ll have much time to hang out. I’ll text when I can.” He kissed Ronan’s cheek, said, “Go to class,” and hurried off.</p>
<p>Ronan did not go to class, and he did not see his boyfriend again until Friday afternoon. He crashed Adam’s shift at the library, something he’d done many times now, pestering Adam as he worked behind the circulation desk. He always brought coffee. Coffee was more or less the way to Adam’s heart, he’d decided.</p>
<p>“When you said you’d be busy,” Ronan said, “I didn’t know you meant literally not having any free time all week. Have you even slept?”</p>
<p>“A little.” Adam was in an odd, frenetic mood. He didn’t stop moving, even rearranging stacks of reserved books when he had nothing else to do. He seemed happy, though. He grinned back at Ronan from where he was standing and pointed out, “We’ve talked every day.”</p>
<p>“Not in person.” Ronan pouted a little. Not seriously. Adam had to do what he had to do.</p>
<p>“Does it always have to be in person?”</p>
<p>“Shockingly, I do prefer actually <em>seeing </em>my boyfriend instead of just texting him.”</p>
<p>Adam walked back over to where Ronan was perched on a stool beside the circulation desk. He wasn’t allowed behind it. The stool had already been dubbed “Ronan’s spot.”</p>
<p>Adam looked at his face carefully for a moment, with half a smile. Then he patted Ronan’s head and walked away again.</p>
<p>What was that supposed to mean?</p>
<p>They spent the rest of Adam’s shift making up backstories for various people who came and went from the library. Ronan’s best was the tragic tale of The Guy With the Violin Case, how he’d had his musical instruments stolen so many times that he now took the violin everywhere he went. Ronan started listing all the stolen instruments. Guitar. Viola. French horn. Maracas. Piccolo. Lute. Piano.</p>
<p>“An entire piano?” Adam was laughing again, gasping for air.</p>
<p>“It’s not fucking funny, Parrish!” Ronan said as Adam tried to compose himself. “He probably really loved his castanets.”</p>
<p>Adam kept laughing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was all in stark contrast to the rest of the weekend. They spent most of it in Adam’s room, making up for all the time they hadn’t spent together during the week. But there was no fooling around. Nothing but kissing. Adam was tired and quiet, still doing classwork half the time. He got annoyed when Ronan told him to take a break, and more annoyed still when Ronan asked what was wrong with him. Which could’ve perhaps been phrased more sweetly.</p>
<p>Late Sunday afternoon, the sun was setting out Adam’s window, and Adam was at his desk, staring into space, having apparently finished his homework. Finally. Ronan was on Adam’s bed, leaning against the wall, bored. He’d been amusing himself by seeing how far he could slingshot his bracelets. Now they were all over Adam’s floor. He was considering picking them up when Adam turned to him and said, a bit vacantly, “Hey, I wanted to talk about something.”</p>
<p>His voice was strained. Ronan thought, <em>oh, here we go.</em> He sat up straighter. “Okay, Parrish. Shoot.”</p>
<p>Adam sighed, like the conversation was already exhausting. “I’ve been thinking, for the past week. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other after this semester.”</p>
<p>Ronan’s chest seized. His stomach clenched. He was suddenly way too hot. “What?” He couldn’t really think of other words.</p>
<p>Adam was turning red. He seemed desperately uncomfortable. “I just mean... You’ll be moving back home. We won’t be seeing each other, like, physically. So maybe it would be easier to just...” He paused and looked at Ronan like he wanted Ronan to finish the sentence. Which he didn’t. “...Break up,” said Adam finally.</p>
<p>Ronan took a long moment to stare at Adam, to ask himself if this was really happening, and to come up with something coherent to say. Not an easy task when his heart was breaking. Again. His throat had gone dry, and his voice came out much angrier and more hostile than he’d intended. “So, what, you’re scheduling a breakup ahead of time?”</p>
<p>Adam didn’t reply. He didn’t look surprised at the anger. His expression was troubled and embarrassed.</p>
<p>Ronan went on. He couldn’t stop himself. “I guess that’s how you do everything, huh? Let me pencil five minutes with my boyfriend into my busy schedule.” He sort of hated himself for saying it while he still was. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why Adam was so busy.</p>
<p>Adam frowned, like he was getting angry too, but his words were halting and soft. “You said just the other day that being together in person is important to you.”</p>
<p>“But I didn’t mean—” Ronan found he didn’t actually have a great argument to that. He was struggling to say something like, <em>I’ll come to see Gansey. I’ll come to see my brothers. And you.</em></p>
<p>He couldn’t quite get there before Adam said, “I want more time together. I just don’t want to make things difficult once summer comes.”</p>
<p>Ronan was the factor that always made things more difficult. Here was his proof. Adam liked him. Did not love him. He stared at his hands, which were shaking.</p>
<p>Still soft, Adam said, “I can’t imagine you saw this lasting forever. It’s not like you’re in love with me.”</p>
<p>Ronan looked up fast, shocked, but Adam wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking out his window again, at the sunset. “Just think about it, okay?” Adam said. “We don’t have to decide now.”</p>
<p>Ronan slid off Adam’s bed and left without another word. He went straight up to his 8<sup>th</sup>-floor room. All the way, his heart was beating to a rhythm of <em>not like you’re in love... </em>He started flipping through one of his sketchbooks, looking for the pages he wanted to tear out, but he realized there were too many. So many dozens of pages with bits and pieces of Adam—a smile, a patch of freckles, and hands, so many hands. He threw the sketchbook on his desk and went to rifle through the paintings leaning against his wall. Most of them were for the classes he was still paying attention to. A few were just for him.</p>
<p>He took two of them and the sketchbook back down to the 6<sup>th</sup> floor and left them outside Adam’s room. He scribbled a note on the front of the sketchbook. <em>Now tell me how you think I feel</em>.</p>
<p>He stomped back upstairs, absolutely fuming, which might or might not’ve been reasonable. He threw one of his mugs at the wall for the pleasure of watching it smash. Then he tried to drown himself in some of his angriest music.</p>
<p>Gansey texted at some point. <em>Did you leave a bunch of stuff outside Adam’s door?</em> Ronan didn’t reply.</p>
<p>15 minutes later, Adam texted. <em>Will you come back down here, please?</em> It was oddly formal, and Ronan didn’t know if it was about the art or if he just wanted to continue the conversation. One part of him wanted to be petty and ignore this message, too. He actually debated it for a few minutes. But the other, bigger part of him wanted to see if there was a way of salvaging things with Adam.</p>
<p>So he went downstairs again. The paintings weren’t in the hallway anymore.</p>
<p>Adam opened the door as soon as he knocked and said, “I didn’t know if you’d come.”</p>
<p>Ronan was so, so angry. Possibly that was his default response to everything now, because he also really wanted to throw himself at Adam and hug him for as long as possible. Instead, he came into the room and looked at his paintings, now carefully arranged on Adam’s desk, and the sketchbook on the bed.</p>
<p>After a moment, Adam said, “I didn’t know you’d made any more paintings of me.”</p>
<p>Ronan cleared his throat. “Now you do.”</p>
<p>Adam came over and looked at them with him. One was of the day at the beach. Adam was just a tiny figure amidst the blue-gray of the sea and the pink of that night’s sunset, but Ronan wasn’t surprised he’d recognized himself anyway. The other was only a few days old. Adam sleeping under the dogwood.</p>
<p>Adam wrapped his arms around himself. “They’re so lovely I don’t even actually know how to describe them.”</p>
<p>“‘Lovely’ works,” Ronan said.</p>
<p>Adam picked up the sketchbook and held it up, showing Ronan the note. “Was that meant for me?”</p>
<p>“Who else would it be for?” Ronan snapped.</p>
<p>Adam looked at it. “I don’t know, maybe you have weird labels for your sketchbooks.”</p>
<p>Obviously not. Ronan waited.</p>
<p>“I don’t really understand,” Adam said slowly. “Why would... I mean, what... how am I supposed to think you feel?”</p>
<p>“Jesus, Parrish.” Ronan collapsed into the desk chair, so Adam sat down on the bed, and they looked at each other. “You really make things complicated when they don’t have to be.”</p>
<p>Adam was still hugging himself. He looked smaller than usual. “I’m not good at this, okay? This is all new to me.”</p>
<p><em>What?</em> Ronan wondered. <em>Feelings?</em></p>
<p>“I can’t guess,” Adam said. “I need you to tell you what you mean.”</p>
<p>Ronan swore under his breath, but he had nothing to lose now. “I love you.”</p>
<p>Adam flinched.</p>
<p>Ronan resisted the urge to run away. “I’ve known since—that.” He pointed at the beach painting. “It started before, though.”</p>
<p>“When?” Adam asked, voice tiny.</p>
<p>Ronan tried to think back to earlier days with Adam. “I don’t know. The club, maybe? When we danced? But it didn’t happen like—” he snapped his fingers.</p>
<p>Adam nodded slowly. He let his arms drop to his sides. “I just thought—you were so casual about saying you’re going back to the Barns permanently. I didn’t expect you to want any more ties to this place.” He waved his hand, indicating the whole university, or maybe the whole city.</p>
<p>“You’re one of the only redeeming qualities of this place,” Ronan said flatly, still stupidly peeved.</p>
<p>Adam smiled, though, just a little bit. He stood and came over and sat down gingerly on Ronan’s lap, like he was afraid of hurting him. <em>Too late,</em> Ronan thought, but he slipped his arms around Adam anyway, to anchor him.</p>
<p>Adam hugged him, burying his face in the crook of Ronan’s neck, just like he had the day he’d talked about his parents. “I love you too,” Adam whispered. “I’m sorry—it isn’t easy for me—I can’t remember if I’ve ever said that to anyone before.”</p>
<p>“Fuck, Parrish,” Ronan said—but softly, because he was suddenly, absurdly happy.</p>
<p>“I know,” said Adam. And then, “So, just to be clear—you don’t want to break up?”</p>
<p>Ronan swallowed down some mix of frustration and affection and said, “Actually, yeah, I really want to break up and move a zillion miles away and never see the guy I’m crazy about ever again. For god’s sake, Parrish. Okay, I know I never said it either, but I’ve been so moony over you—how did you not know?”</p>
<p>Adam held onto him tighter. “I haven’t <em>heard </em>those words much either.”</p>
<p>Oh. Fuck. Of course. Of course.</p>
<p>“I’ll say it as much as you want. Do you want to break up?”</p>
<p>A short, wild laugh burst out of Adam. “No, of course not, not at all.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me for asking, since you tried to dump me like an hour ago.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t—I was just trying to make it easier for you if you wanted to go.”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Ronan said, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “Staying right in this exact spot forever.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Adam. Ronan could hear his smile.</p>
<p>“And look, I don’t—I don’t have to live out there all the time, all right? I can split my time. Be here with you as much as you want. Go away when I’ve annoyed you too much.”</p>
<p>Adam turned and kissed him on the cheek. “When you annoy me too much, I’ll still want you to stay.” Then he moved his whole body so he could kiss Ronan on the lips. It was a long, slow, hot one, and it gave Ronan ideas, but then Adam said, “You’d really endure DC for me?”</p>
<p>“You and only you, Adam.” He could feel himself blushing.</p>
<p>Adam sighed happily. “I like it when you say my name.” He turned to look at the paintings again. “This is how you tell people how you feel, huh? This is the second time you’ve done that for me.”</p>
<p>“Pictures are easier than words,” Ronan said.</p>
<p>Adam kissed him again. “Keep making me pictures.”</p>
<p>“I will,” Ronan promised. “I’ll make you so many pictures you won’t even know what to fucking do with them. They’re gonna take up your entire house, when you have a house. I’m gonna draw a picture for every emotion, all right? ‘I want a pizza’—I’m gonna make a picture.”</p>
<p>Ronan was on a roll—he wasn’t going to stop—except that Adam was laughing again, and it was such a gorgeous sound.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think this is the end of the line for this fic (although someone just gave me a funny idea for a spinoff, so we'll see). Thank you SO much for all your lovely comments and suggestions!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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